


Second to None

by AngelsofGlory666



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha John, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Beta Mary, Bottom John, Dark Sherlock, Degrading Sex, Dubious Consent, Dysfunctional Relationships, Engame Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, John Loves Sherlock, M/M, Marriage, Mentally Unstable Sherlock, Omega Sherlock, Repentant John, Rough Sherlock, Second Mate - Sherlock, Self-Harm through being reckless, Sherlock is in denial, Top Sherlock, Werewolves, bonded, slight non-con, wolf form
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 01:44:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13156527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelsofGlory666/pseuds/AngelsofGlory666
Summary: Currently they stood together, preforming the bonding ceremony to become mated. As if Sherlock would just accept it. He wouldn't, damn what his family wanted. He refused to be claimed. He refused to be mated. Sherlock rather die than degrade himself into becoming this alpha's plaything, because that's what he would become. It didn't matter what the scientific data and charts said. This alpha might be his true mate, but Sherlock refused to be this alpha's second. Seconds couldn't even marry their mates. They could only preform the bonding ceremony.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is being reposted along with some of my other works. I deleted all my stories in a moment of anger because of a hurtful comment. It was one of the worst and cruelest...
> 
> I'm getting angry again remembering it. Moving on, I received a message from a reader after having deleted everything. They reminded me of why I started writing. They felt for my stories the way I felt for fan fiction. I realized I shouldn't hurt others just because of one stupid jerk. So, sorry to my readers. I don't usually get like this but... yeah, never had a comment like that ass's before. Sorry, still angry. It will take some time to work through that anger.
> 
>  
> 
> Let me know what you think? Comments are the food to my creativity.
> 
> :)  
> 

Sherlock glowered at the alpha before him. The alpha's eyes were a dark blue, and yet, they held kindness in them. Sherlock loathed the pity of this alpha. 

Currently they stood together, preforming the bonding ceremony to become mated. As if Sherlock would just accept it. He wouldn't, damn what his family wanted. He refused to be claimed. He refused to be mated. Sherlock rather die than degrade himself into becoming this alpha's plaything, because that's what he would become. It didn't matter what the scientific data and charts said. This alpha might be his true mate, but Sherlock refused to be this alpha's second. Seconds couldn't even marry their mates. They could only preform the bonding ceremony. 

Once... A _long_ time ago, Sherlock thought he might be happy with a mate. He'd wished to find someone who could love him and cherish him. Someone who could be a friend. But that dream died over the many years he'd waited to be matched up with his true alpha. Mycroft told him he'd grown bitter over the wait, which was understandable as an omega should be mated before they reach 30. 

An omega wasn't meant to be alone. By age 30 their fertility decreased. Without a mate, they grew temperamental, delusional, and finally they either lost their mind or died. Sherlock wasn't any different. He'd become temperamental, started speaking with voices that did not exist. It got so bad, Mycroft had committed him, and began a desperate search for his true mate, like he'd never done before. 

Sherlock snarled at the alpha. The priest standing at their side stopped speaking to warily stare at the omega. They still resided in the hospital. Sherlock's hands were held tightly in the alpha's own. Even when Sherlock tried to tug them free, this alpha would not relent. He was using his alpha strength and it infuriated him.

"How dare you!" Sherlock hissed. 

The alpha's eyes grew pained as he stared at his mate full of grief. The bitter scent of his guilt did not pacify Sherlock. His alpha had betrayed him. It didn't matter what Mycroft told him. So what if his alpha joined the army at 18 and spent most of his life as a Captain in the army. So what if his alpha had come back after his parents arranged a marriage for him? It was his alpha's duty to get tested. Instead, he'd married someone else, mated with some beta, and in so doing assigned Sherlock his second. 

It was a terrible insult to his status and rank. He was this alpha's true mate! True mates were monogamous, yet not in Sherlock's case. Because of his alpha's selfish choice, he'd become the second in a relationship that should never be this way. This other beta had stolen his place and now Sherlock lost all his rights. There shouldn't have been a first or second mate for them. It should have just been them, but no. This alpha had betrayed him.

Mycroft found Sherlock's true mate, only after his alpha finally, _finally_ decided to get tested by the alpha/omega matchmaking services. Why he did so married, Sherlock couldn't understand. How could his alpha be so cruel as to take his true mate after he'd decided long ago to marry a beta?

 _He wants you as his plaything._ One voice offered and Sherlock tensed, his wrists wringing to free themselves from the alpha, but it was a hopeless fight.

 _He's going to use your body to do all the dirty things he'd never do to his precious beta._ Another voice supplied.

 _Poor Sherlock. Once you dreamed about your mate, and now you have him -- Not as it should be. Ooh, the embarrassment!_ Laughed another voice.

"Shut up! _Shutupshutupshutup!_ I am not an embarrassment!" Sherlock shouted, shaking his head wildly, willing the voices to stop.

The soft stroking of thumbs to his wrists made Sherlock open his eyes, he hadn't realized he'd shut them. The alpha's concern was clear on his face as he looked to Sherlock with all his pity and guilt. Good. The alpha should feel bad for what he'd done to him. He was loosing his mind because of the alpha.

"Almost finished. The voices will stop. I promise." The alpha softly spoke.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed, his fangs descended, and he snapped them in the alpha's direction with warning. 

" _You adulterous slag_." Sherlock cursed with such venom and enjoyed the way the alpha flinched at the pure hate in his voice.

Those dark blue eyes gleamed all at once as they lowered in shame and the alpha whispered a pained, "I'm so sorry, Sherlock."

Sherlock growled with displeasure and disgust, as if he would take the polygamous alpha's words to heart. 

"You may now lay claim to your mate." The priest said and Sherlock became crazed with madness.

"No! No, I don't want this. Let me die in peace. Let me die!" Sherlock screamed with desperation. Mycroft's agents who'd been standing quietly on the sidelines, immediately were at his sides. One at each side, took hold of an arm, so that the true alpha could release Sherlock. Another agent grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked it back and held the bottom of his chin to tilt his neck enough to expose his left side and scent gland to the alpha that was to lay his claim. 

Sherlock stared wide-eyed at the alpha.

"Don't do it. I don't want you! You chose someone else, now leave me to die!" Sherlock screeched.

The alpha broke into tremors, his dark eyes filled over, and tears broke free.

"I'm sorry. You... I.... never meant... I will make things right. I will heal your mind and maybe... maybe you will forgive me once I tell you--"

"Never. I won't forgive you. You wish for me to be your second?! I'll kill myself before I let you bed me. I will!" Sherlock vowed. 

The alpha stared up at him in horror and shook his head, glancing over to Mycroft at the corner of the room, the gentleman silently watching with a solemn frown.

"He'd die without the bite. He's mad. He doesn't know what he's saying. He doesn't understand as he normally would. I know my brother. He will forgive you... eventually. You both need this, John."

The alpha looked at Sherlock with grim determination and took a step forward, breaking their distance. His mouth parted and his fangs slowly descended from his mouth and Sherlock roared with protest. Thrashing in the agents hold, but it was useless. They were all alphas, and he was only an omega. How could he fight off four alphas? It simply could not be done.

"Mycroft, stop this! I've accepted dying! I don't want him. How can you allow me to become a second?" Sherlock pleaded despairingly, unable to stop his tears from breaking free as the alpha's breath brushed against his scent gland and the alpha inhaled sharply of his scent.

Sherlock breathed through his mouth. He refused to scent his true mate anymore. He refused to acknowledge the alpha even had a scent. He'd never scent the alpha in return.

"I do this... because I _cannot_ watch you die a slow, painful death." Mycroft spoke, his voice gave way to a startlingly large amount of sentiment, but Sherlock did not care for it.

"I will _kill_ you!" Sherlock swore. 

Sherlock's thrashing stopped in that moment, because the sharp heat of fangs pressed on his gland. Soft at first, but then steadily gaining in pressure, until the pointed fangs tore through skin, muscle, and burst the gland within. Alpha pheromones and hormones seeping within, mixing with Sherlock's own. Sherlock didn't have to smell the alpha to feel the moment the biological reaction was taking place. He could feel the very instant it happened; his muscles relaxed further, his head spun - fogging, and his heart rate increased. 

Sherlock blinked slowly. Struggling to stay aware of his surroundings, but his mind and body were too far gone for an omega. He was 36. His mind was sick, as too was his body becoming. But now, now the alpha had claimed him with the bond of a mated alpha and omega pair. 

Within Sherlock, his omega whimpered in sorrow. It felt as if it were too late and it hurt. Not physically. The physical pain was dulled by the alpha's saliva. It carried anesthetic properties. No, he felt the pain of years of longing and the knowledge of his alpha's betrayal. It was a terrible injustice only very few omega's faced. 

"Shhh. I have you." The alpha spoke and only then did Sherlock realize that the agents who'd been holding him, had released him, and that he now lay cradled in the alpha's lap. One of the alpha's strong arms was wrapped around his waist, the other he used to stroke away the omega's silent tears.

Sherlock stared up at the blurry alpha, feeling drowsy. His blood humming in his veins. He distantly compared the feeling to being drugged on Morphine. Maybe it was because the hospital had been giving him Morphine for the past few months to help with the pain for his failing body. Now though, Sherlock could feel a piece of the alpha within him, filling all the emptiness he'd been suffering from for ages without the alpha's love and care.

"I don't want you." Sherlock sobbed weakly. "You didn't want me."

Those dark blue eyes had shed more tears. The alpha shook his head and his blond hair tossed about. Sherlock thought it looked silky-soft, but he'd never admit that aloud.

"I did -- I _do_ want you. I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry."

Sherlock's nose crinkled in a grimace at those useless words. 'Sorry', would not change that his status had been lowered.

"I..." Sherlock slurred, forcing his eyes to remain open for a little while longer. 

"I..." Sherlock tried shaking his head to get the alpha's hand off his face.

"I hate you, _alpha_." Sherlock spat the last part hatefully, because he would forever refuse to call the alpha, by his name. His alpha had abandoned him and married another, disregarding his existence. Sherlock would repay the alpha's sentiments in kind. 

Sherlock gave in to the darkness that swallowed him up whole, but not before he heard the alpha belt out a wounded cry.

  



	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock was not in shock like this alpha feared. No. Mycroft knew him better than that. Yes, he might be in shock, but it was his disposition and frustrations that caused him to sit in silence and stare blankly at the foreign room's wall. 

He was not in the mental institute anymore. From his surroundings, he knew he was in a residential room. Upon first waking, he'd scented the room before he could determine he should not have. The room smelled heavily of the alpha. What was his name again? Mycroft had mentioned it, but Sherlock started breaking things in the hospital room when he'd been told that the alpha was rushing over to begin the bonding ceremony. 

Sherlock believed it started with a 'J', but he couldn't be sure. If there was one thing he'd learned over the last two years: he couldn't be sure of anything. Not when his mind began playing tricks on him. 

He thought over the events that happened to him. How he'd been forced to bond a disloyal alpha. How he'd been sentenced to live a miserable mated life to a man he didn't want anymore, just so he could live. 

Sherlock was angry with Mycroft, but now... His thoughts were less disjointed. Enough so that he could understand his older brother's motives. Although he didn't agree with them and was undoubtedly angry with him, Sherlock didn't want to kill Mycroft. He was truly out of his mind and still, even with the bonding mark and the knowledge he had an alpha now, felt unsettled. 

The voices hadn't come back, but that didn't change the fact that his alpha came too late after his mind began to sicken with delusions. If his alpha came a year ago, maybe he could have been successful enough so that he would be completely healed, but he'd been so late in the stage of his madness that his omega was greatly affected. 

His omega should be feeling content with the knowledge he'd been claimed, but he wasn't. His omega side was curled up within, whimpering in distress. His mind was a fog of lies and illusions that weren't real. His mind palace was destroyed, frayed and the foundation of it were barely holding together. 

His mind was a tattered mess that had been somewhat repaired with his bonding to the alpha, but it was going to take years - if it were even possible - for Sherlock to be the way he'd been before his omega began shutting down.

When Mycroft and the alpha started discussing his health, Sherlock slipped into his mind palace. What had once been a place of security was now a cluttered mess of chaos. He'd been mentally unstable for two years, institutionalized for ten months. Even so, Sherlock was able to hear bits and pieces of the alpha and his brother's conversation.

"He's better, but he will suffer mentally since his case was severe. I have no doubt that after he receives love and care from you, his health will improve."

"I don't think he will accept me, not now. I didn't realize he'd..."

"Hate you? Come now, he's mad and his omega has been suffering for the past two years. Can you blame him?"

"I should have registered sooner. I shouldn't have waited."

"You had your reasons." Mycroft didn't sound like he agreed with whatever those reasons were.

Sherlock tuned out of their conversation then. He didn't care to hear what they had to say. Instead he quickly began gathering all the voices that still dwelled within his mind, intent on tearing them to shreds. 

So long he'd suffered and yet, it would seem his suffering was not over. They'd removed him from the hospital and taken him here. In a room that smelled of the alpha, which could only mean he was within the alpha's home. 

This was too cruel a sentence. To live within a home with his alpha and - he had no doubts - the alpha's beta. 

"Sherlock." Mycroft called.

Sherlock could vaguely hear his brother's call, but he didn't look away from the wall. 

_Poor Sherlock, pitying yourself will not change you're status now as this alpha's plaything._ A voice whispered and Sherlock jerked his head slightly and waved a hand near his temple, as if to shove the voice away.

Mycroft frowned, understanding filling his gaze. He'd seen the behavior before.

"Maybe... Maybe we should take him back to the hospital?" the alpha warily suggested.

Mycroft glanced over to the concerned alpha. "No. The best place for him to be now is with you. You must nurture him back to himself. He needs you in order to heal."

The alpha nodded and moved away from the shut door of the room and closer to the now still omega staring at nothing.

"Sherlock." Mycroft leaned over the bed until he placed his face in front of Sherlock's and attempted to catch his gaze, Sherlock looked through him, unseeing.

"I know you didn't want this, but I am prepared for you to hate me if it means you will live, so hate me all you want."

Sherlock slipped deeper within his mind palace. It might be a mess of thoughts, but it was safer than out there in the real world. Less painful than being near that alpha.

Mycroft straightened back up and looked to the alpha wringing at his hands, unsettled, and unsure of himself.

"Talk to him. He can hear you. He likes to hide within his mind palace. He'll come out of it eventually."

"Mind palace?"

Mycroft smirked, "It's his way of storing all he views as important. He can dissociate from his body and slip into his mind."

John glanced down at the omega again, his gaze softening with pity. 

"I did this to him." The guilt was thick in his voice. 

Mycroft inhaled a deep breath and stepped to stand in front of the alpha, eyes cold.

"John Hamish Watson." Mycroft hissed like a curse, "This is your fault, but do not dwell in your sorrows. Right now, it is your duty and obligation to make this right. Fix it. Talk to him. I will be in touch." With that said, Mycroft spared the silent young Holmes one last soft look before he moved to the door and stepped out of it, shutting it behind him.

The silence turned thick and unbearable. Sherlock was currently reorganizing his memories in chronological order of what he believed them to be.

"Um, hello." John began uneasily, taking another step to the mute and motionless omega. 

Gauging the omega - half expecting the man to turn wild and lash out at him - John slowly moved to seat himself at Sherlock's side. 

"At least you can hear me and.... I would like to explain myself, though I know what I might say will not make my actions any less painful." John began, unsure how he could begin explaining himself. 

"You're in my- _our_ home. I chose it out long ago. I wanted... I wanted it to be where we'd raise our family. This is my room, I thought that my scent would help sooth your omega." John scanned the omega's face for any type of reaction. 

Sherlock was still dressed in the institute's patient uniform. All white short sleeve shirt, slacks, socks, and flat shoes. He sat with his back against the headboard, his hands lay limply on his lap, his head was tilted slightly to the side, and he stared at the wall across the bed, his eyes blinking slowly, eyes void of emotion.

"I never meant for this to happen. I... was young when I joined the army and I... I intended to register with the government and find you once I'd set up a home for us and I'd gotten close." John sighed heavily when Sherlock gave no sign that he was listening.

"My mother grew ill two years ago. I was always away on tour and then I was told by my father that my mother was dying. I came back to be with her in her last moments. She told me then that she'd found me a strong beta who she thought was perfect for me. My wife... Mary. Her mother and my mother grew up together and were the best of friends. My mother was always fond of Mary. She got it in her head that I'd be happy married with her."

Sherlock didn't want to listen to the alpha's excuses, but he couldn't stop himself from doing so.

"My mother was on her death bed, you see, when she asked me to marry Mary. I couldn't refuse her when she was like that. It was her dying wish. I married Mary and my mother didn't die. She got better - I think it was seeing us wed that gave her the will to live a bit longer. I couldn't register for you then. My mother would have died from the shock of it."

Why should she? The alpha/omega services were never wrong. They only matched true mates together and it was known to bring them great joy. True mates were extremely compatible. They always fell madly in love with each other. Most fell in love at first sight. There were only a few cases where one party was unhappily mated to their true mate. Cases like Sherlock's, where their alpha had married someone else before mating their true mate. 

"Mary and I have always been close friends. We spent many summer vacations together as children and kept in touch after I joined the army. She understood the reason why we married. I thought we could still retain our friendship over the short time we were married to please my mother."

Sherlock drew further inside of himself. As if he wanted to hear about John's many years with that beta. He didn't want this. He wanted the alpha gone. Away from him. He wanted to go back home to Baker Street. 

"I never realized that Mary harbored feelings for me. Not until sometime after we married. I know I was wrong to ignore my duty to you, but I told myself I was doing the right thing. I always intended on finding you after my mother's passing. I was too worried that my mother would suffer from the shock of it." John hesitantly raised a hand and lay it over Sherlock's, a gentle show of comfort.

Sherlock winced inwardly, hating that a part of himself was touched by this adulterous alpha.

"A year ago, my mother died. I wasn't ready for you then. I was dealing with my grief and caring for my father. I recently spoke with Mary about finding you. Our marriage... It's only ever been a deep friendship for me. Although she was hurt by my wish to seek you out, she understood why we married, and accepted my choice."

That wasn't good enough for Sherlock. So what? So what if his alpha's mother pressured him into marrying the beta? It was the alpha's choice to leave him waiting, knowing the possibilities, and marry someone else. Sherlock would be damned if he forgave the alpha.

Time passed in silence. John eventually stood and released Sherlock's hand to leave the room. He returned minutes later and proceeded to help an unresponsive Sherlock remove his shoes and slip under the comforter. Then John stripped himself, until he wore nothing but plain white boxer-briefs. 

Sherlock felt outraged when the alpha moved himself onto the bed on the other side of him and wrapped the omega in his arms. Turning Sherlock slightly, John pressed his chest into the omega's back and shoved his nose up against the nape of his neck where he proceeded to scent Sherlock.

"I'm sorry if you're not ready for this, but I need to scent you. We've been without each other for too long."

Sherlock didn't come out of his mind palace. No. He refused to speak to this alpha, even when it meant he could yell at him some more. Instead, Sherlock waited and listened in as the alpha took calming deep breaths. The alpha's arms turned loose about his waist and his head shifted away from Sherlock's neck to bury partly into his pillow as he drifted off into a deep sleep.

When Sherlock was positive the alpha was too far gone in his sleep to notice his return, he left his mind palace and slowly turned his head to stare at the slumbering man. The alpha looked peaceful in his sleep and that pissed Sherlock off. 

John Watson, the adulterous alpha, could sleep so easily, even when he'd destroyed the omega's life. Sherlock almost wished to slap the alpha then and there, but that would wake him up, and the omega didn't want that.

Carefully, with thought and stealth, Sherlock slipped out of John's loosened arms and off of the bed. He stood at the side of the bed for a moment, just to be sure that in his shuffling he had not woken the alpha. John didn't move. His breathing remained the same, his features never twitched. He was still sleeping. 

Glaring at the man, Sherlock fought back a growl, and quickly but quietly left the room. Sherlock didn't care to take in his surrounding of a home that was to be partiality his. No. He'd only taken enough of his surroundings to realize he was upstairs and needed to go downstairs and find his way out. He'd stumbled in his escape. Finding himself in a kitchen, before turning and going in the opposite direction. Then he slipped past a dining room, living room, and found the foyer leading to the front door. 

Sherlock cautiously worked at the locks, fumbling and finding both locks needed to be horizontal to open the door. The door opened with little sound and Sherlock was thankful for this small bit of luck. Glancing back and to the darkened home, lit softly in the blue hue of moonlight cast out from the open door, Sherlock smiled.

To hell with his alpha. He'd be damned if he lived in a home with that beta and his treacherous true mate. Turning his back to the door, Sherlock exited the home and rushed out to the quiet street. A single glance at the home as he walked away, told him his alpha had meant his words. He'd looked for a home for them, and it was a nice one. A whitewashed two story townhouse in a nice neighborhood. The type of place an alpha and his omega could raise a litter. Sherlock could see the potential to it, but what he saw now, knowing how John was, was a home where he'd suffer. A home where he'd have to share his alpha's affection with a beta that had stolen his status. 

John Watson was a despicable excuse for an alpha that Sherlock would never accept as his true mate. 

His quick steps turned to a sprint as he felt a sudden fear grow within him. When his alpha woke to find him gone, Sherlock didn't want to be here

  



	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock broke into 221B Baker Street that night. Mycroft hadn't felt the need to leave him his keys to a home he would no longer be living in. That was what Mycroft thought. Sherlock wouldn't leave his home for the alpha's that easily.

Sherlock spent a good hour pacing the floor of his home, deliberating his options and circumstances. Mycroft wouldn't take his home away from him. The gentleman was responsible for his trust funds and when their parents someday passed on, he'd handle Sherlock's inheritance. Sherlock's past drug abuse was the reason he'd lost control of his funds. But now that he was bonded to the alpha, that responsibility would soon be handed over to John Watson. 

Mycroft wasn't rash and Sherlock knew before that happened, the older Holmes would be certain of John's character. Whatever files Mycroft recieved on the alpha wouldn't be enough proof of character. John would have to earn Mycroft's trust if he were to give the alpha full access to Sherlock's money. 

So for the time being, that meant his flat was safe. If the alpha had it his way, he might sell it and force Sherlock to go back to that townhouse. Right now Sherlock's flat was his one safe place. But he couldn't stay forever, pacing the floors in contemplation, he knew he needed to do something. He needed to clear his mind of these daunting thoughts and focus on something else. 

_It won't change anything. You are still that alpha's property._ A voice rang out and Sherlock stilled mid-stride.

_He'll come for you and then you will be sorry. He'll punish you severely._ Another voice warned.

Sherlock shuddered at the voice's warning. The voices were back. That one voice's reappearance at the alpha's house hadn't been a fluke. His alpha's claim hadn't rid them from his mind. Not yet. He was so far gone mentally when the bond was made that there was no telling when he would be fully back to himself. 

Maybe he never would.

Perhaps if he allowed the alpha to care for him, spent his nights scenting with his true mate, and bedded him, the voices would cease? Sherlock refused that idea. He'd never share his body with the adulterous cad, even if it meant completing the bond and healing his mind fully. 

"A case. I need a case." Sherlock told himself - or the voices, he was unsure. Maybe both. It had been so long since he'd worked a case.

_A case is merely a distraction. You will never be rid of **him**._

"Shut up!" Sherlock shouted, hands flying to clutch his head, fingers weaving through his wild hair.

_You're deluding yourself if you think otherwise._

"I said, shut up!"

Sherlock shook his head and whimpered as the voices continued.

_Poor Sherlock._

_What did you ever do wrong?_

_You waited for him, faithfully._

_He bedded another, possibly more than just that beta_

_His body isn't pure like yours. He's dirty. That body of his that touched you was dirty._

_He touched you as if you were his when he is everybody's._

_An alpha whore. Not worthy of you._

"Please." Sherlock whispered brokenly, lowering where he stood to kneel on the hard ground, and dug his claws into his scalp. 

_I know it hurts. We feel your pain._

_Kill him._

"No." Sherlock shook his head, horrified. 

_Kill yourself._

"Leave me alone." Sherlock sobbed pitifully, tears breaking free, his mind palace quaking under the weight of so many stressors. It was already just barely staying together. If his mind palace fell, he didn't know what would become of him.

_How could we leave you to suffer alone? We are not like that alpha. We care. We've never left you alone._

Sherlock didn't want to hear them. He needed to get up and out of there. The Work was his only salvation. Rising to his feet, Sherlock took a moment to right himself. Retracting his claws and staring at his hands, revealed light blood smearing his fingers. Staring further down to the ground, Sherlock caught sight of his feet. He wasn't wearing his shoes. Suddenly recalling that the alpha had removed them, Sherlock hadn't remembered to put them on when he'd escaped the alpha's home. His socks were tattered, covered in dirt and drying blood. 

First thing was first, he would wash his feet and hands, redress himself, then he'd search the internet and catch up with the world that had been revolving while he'd been in hospital. After, he'd find himself a case, a simple hack to the NSY database would do it.

...

_You can't ignore us.._ a voice hissed, irritated as Sherlock washed his hands in the bathroom sink. 

_We're the only ones who understand you._

_You can't survive without us. You've had us when you had no one_

_We can help with the pain._

_Let us help._ The last of the voices cooed sweetly as Sherlock readied himself and left the flat in search of a developing crime scene. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sherlock!" Gregory Lestrade exclaimed, stunned - as were the rest of NSY officers surrounding the crime scene.

"The son didn't do it." Sherlock said, ignoring the looks he was receiving by everyone and instead choosing to circle the dead man on the ground.

_Sherlock._

"What?" 

"The son. You think it's the son. It's not." Sherlock kneeled on the ground and began taking notice of the discoloration of the victim's neck - strangulation it would appear.

"How are you...? Mycroft said you were..." Lestrade was flummoxed, attempting to get his thoughts out.

_Sherlock._

"Holmes? Aren't you supposed to be in the loony bin?" Anderson shot out spitefully.

Sherlock looked away from the dead body to flash a withering glare at the sniveling excuse for a man. How that man had been born an alpha was a mystery.

"I was released, naturally." Sherlock snarled and angrily pulled back his scarf enough so to reveal the fresh bite mark.

_Sherlock._

Lestrade's eyes widened in disbelief, much like the others who were pretending not to be listening but were. 

"So that means you've found-" Lestrade began, but was cut short.

"It's not the son, don't bother arresting him. I have something I need to confirm, I'm sure it will lead me where I believe we will find the true murderer." Sherlock rose slowly from the ground and wrapped his scarf securely to conceal the bite mark once more.

_Sherlock._

"What...? Wait, Sherlock." Lestrade was trying, but the shock of the omega's appearance at a crime scene when all of NSY knew where he'd been for so long was hindering him.

The last time some NSY officers had seen him he'd lost it and started crying and yelling at the dead body at a crime scene, convinced it was his dead grandmother. Mycroft had been called in and the gentlemen and agents had escorted Sherlock out of the building and into a car. After, the omega was institutionalized. 

"I'll be in touch." Sherlock called, and rushed out of the building, past the stares and whispers of officers filling the home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sherlock exited NSY station, feeling no sense of exhilaration as he normally would when finishing a case. No, he felt anxious, knowing that now that he had nothing to focus on he would be left alone with the voices. It would seem that the moment he'd left John's side the voices had returned and they were far worse than before. Continually hounding him for attention and recognition.

_Sherlock._

"Sherlock." 

Sherlock ignored the voices.

"Sherlock."

No. That voice didn't ring out like it would in his mind. This voice was real. Raising his eyes up from the ground in front of him, Sherlock found who the voice belonged to. Mycroft stood no more than two feet away from him, head tilted to the side, eyes narrowed in deliberation.

"You found me. A star for you." Sherlock drawled miserably and glanced around him. Several agents on either side of him. There was no point in trying to run and even if he did, they'd just find him again. Mycroft was relentless when he wanted to be. Besides, Sherlock hadn't been trying to hide. He'd just wanted to get away from the alpha. 

"You've upset your alpha quite a lot. You should have heard him this morning. I do believe he was on the verge of tears when he called me." Mycroft smirked and moved towards the car awaiting them. 

An agent hurried to open the door and Mycroft slid in. Sherlock glared at the older man as he turned to look at him expectantly. Inhaling a deep breath, Sherlock followed him inside and the door was shut after him.

"So then..." Mycroft began as the car lurched to life, "I didn't think I would need to tell you this, but from your childish behavior, it would seem that I was wrong. Sherlock, you cannot run off like that."

Sherlock looked away from his brother and out the window.

_Sherlock._

"Are you listening? This is serious, Sherlock. The doctors stressed the importance that you and John strengthen your bond. If you refuse him, your mental health will decline. Therapy can't cure this. That's why I let that alpha claim you. The bond bite only saved your life. Your mind is now left to be healed and John Watson is the only person that can do that. _He_ is your cure. Your omega needs the alpha's care."

"You should have let me die." The bitterness in his words was clear.

"I told you I couldn't."

"He's married." Sherlock hated how his voice trembled with sentiment. 

"He regrets it." Mycroft sighed warily.

Sherlock snorted, as if that mattered. 

"He's not going to divorce her. He gave her the rights that were to be mine alone. He made me his second. _His second_ , Mycroft. That proves he doesn't regret it."

"Don't be unreasonable. There have been occasions an alpha made the mistake of marrying, trying to defy what is biological."

"Yes, but they all soon realized their mistake and divorced to be with their true mates. Tell me, has John mentioned anything about divorcing his wife?" Sherlock turned to glare at Mycroft.

Mycroft's lips pursed in a way that gave Sherlock the impression he wanted to say something, but after a brief pause the gentleman looked away. Sherlock interpreted it as Mycroft's acknowledgment of his words.

"Right. I trust you will tell that alpha I refuse to live in that house with him and his wife."

"His wife isn't there. She's gone to her family's to visit them for a while."

"Ah, to give me time to bond with _her_ husband, be his plaything to do all the dirty things she'd never let him do to her?" Sherlock laughed manically.

Mycroft stared at the mad consultant cautiously.

"You know he's not like that."

"How would you know? How would I know? We've only just met him."

"I think we both have better judge of character to know he's not like that. He's your true mate. You might be his second in the eyes of the world, but if you let him... You could be the first in his eyes."

Sherlock scoffed at the notion.

_He means to make you suffer._

"You mean to make me suffer."

_To live as a toy piece._

"To live as a toy piece."

_To hate yourself, every day of your life_

"To hate myself, every day of my life."

Mycroft stared quietly at Sherlock, calculatingly, worry growing at whatever he saw.

"You're still hearing them... The voices." Mycroft deliberated. "You don't talk like this. Not to me. You're never this open to your emotions."

Sherlock blanched. He could deny it, but it would be for nothing. Mycroft didn't phrase it as a question. It was a statement of truth that he believed strongly. 

"So what if I am? It's just proof that it was too late to save my mind and you should have let me die."

"The doctors -"

"I don't care what the bloody doctors said! I don't want him. I don't need him. He chose a life without me. I waited twenty years for him and he couldn't even stand up to his dear old sick mother to be with me! I lived so many years without him. He can learn to live without me."

"Don't be petty, Sherlock." Mycroft admonished. "Stop being so stubborn. I don't want to, but if you make me, I will have you put on lockdown."

Sherlock glared at Mycroft, knowing his brother would follow his threat with action. No hesitation. The idea of being locked in _that_ house, the home the alpha and his beta lived in for years, the home they'd copulated in, disgusted him.

"Fine. I will allow this alpha to _care_ for me, but only at my flat. I refuse to live in that house, much less see that beta."

Mycroft paused in contemplation of this notion. No doubt knowing it would be difficult for an alpha to think of living in two homes, when alpha's usually had one large home to house their whole family, including their seconds.

"I believe John will agree. He's rather adamant about making you happy. I do believe he experienced the true mate connection at first sight."

Sherlock's nose crinkled with revolt at that notion. Many true mates, upon first seeing each other fell in love. It was a thing Sherlock had wished for when he was a child, but now found hard to believe. 

"It was lust. A new toy for him to play with."

Mycroft sighed, exasperated with Sherlock's inability to give, even a little. Instead of responding to Sherlock, Mycroft turned his sights to their driver and gave him Sherlock's flat address. After, Mycroft retrieved his cell phone and dialed the alpha.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sherlock was seated on his gray leather chair when there came a knock at the front door. Glaring at Mycroft, who'd been seated in the red chair, he watched the older gentleman rise to his feet to go answer the door. They both knew Sherlock wouldn't do the considerate thing and be the one to welcome the alpha into his home.

"John." Mycroft greeted.

"Where is he? Is he okay? He's lucid and talking, right?" The alpha pushed past Mycroft and entered the home, carrying a large duffle bag.

"Sherlock?" John spoke softly, eyes warm when they connected with Sherlock's responsive but cold gaze.

The alpha dropped his bag near the front door and moved to seat himself across from the omega in the red chair. Sherlock was tempted to hide away in his mind palace, but Mycroft might retaliate and put him on lockdown for it. So Sherlock opted that option out. 

"Alpha." Sherlock voiced his curse and watched contentedly as John's once relieved features turned pained. 'Alpha' was to be used as an honorific title by their omega, but Sherlock had turned it into a cruel insult. Voicing all the slanderous notions of alphas in that one word. Because John Watson was a polygamous, possessive, forceful, knot-head. 

_Yes. Make him suffer._

_He deserves to suffer as you've suffered._

Sherlock agreed with the voices. 

"I... God, Sherlock. I was so worried."

"Isn't that nice." Sherlock patronized and John flinched away from the coldness of his mate.

"Well, now that I've found your lost omega, be sure to keep an eye on him this time. He's rather a handful as I'm sure you're realizing." Mycroft said.

"Just go, Mycroft." Sherlock huffed with frustration. 

Mycroft looked at the omega in long silence, before speaking, "I will be watching you, dear brother. Behave and let John care for you."

Sherlock didn't respond to his brother's words and merely waited for him to leave before addressing the alpha.

"Sherlock-"

"I don't wish to hear anything you have to say. I simply wanted to tell you a few things. This flat has two rooms. One is mine, the other is a spare. The spare will now be your room for the time being. Once my mind is healed enough, I'm sure I will be fine being alone for the times you wish to be with your wife."

"Sherlock." 

"I'm not an idiot. I understand you have... needs. I will not accommodate those needs forever. I need to bed you in order to right my mind further, but until I feel that I am able... _If_ I am able. You will sleep in the spare. If we consummate our bond, then you can go back to your wife for all your sex. If you need to do things in bed she does not wish to, then find a rent boy, or a third. I don't care. I will only let you defile my body with your kinks once and only once, if I can stomach it."

"Stop... Please, stop." It was noticeably causing John a lot of grief to hear these words from Sherlock. 

"For now. We sleep in different rooms. I will need to have you present for when I work on cases. I'm sure Mycroft has already told you what I do. You will be my associate. I know you're an army doctor, so your skills and medical knowledge could prove useful on cases. As for the care part of our bonding, I will allow you to scent me an hour each night before bed. You may scent me in the morning for a short time after I've showered and readied myself for the day. That is all I wish to say, now would you like to move to the couch where you may scent me before I go to bed. I'm rather tired." 

John stared at Sherlock completely lost. His mouth parted slightly, words attempting to work their way to the surface, but struggling to get there. 

"I'm not that kind of alpha."

Sherlock snorted with ill-amusement and rose from his chair.

"Whatever kind of alpha you are, I care not. Now come on and let's get this scenting over with." Sherlock shot back spitefully and moved to seat himself on the sofa and stared back at John, waiting.

The alpha's mouth tensed shut, brows furrowed with frustration, but even if he was upset with Sherlock, he knew that care from him was needed. John rose from his chair and moved to seat himself beside Sherlock. 

The two sat facing each other, but Sherlock refused to be the first to take steps with scenting. Sighing heavily, John pressed his back into the cushion of the couch and reached out for the omega. 

Reluctant as he was, Sherlock allowed himself to be pulled into the alpha's arms. His head resting near the underside of the alpha's chin, nose pressed near the alpha's Adam's apple. Sherlock was sure if he wasn't always breathing through his mouth whenever near the alpha, the man's scent would be overwhelming. 

Unsure what to do with his hands, Sherlock shifted to rest them over his own legs while John's arms wrapped around his waist and held him securely, his nose buried within his curls and giving audible inhales of his scent.

"I know I did a terrible injustice against you. I know that. But you must understand something." John's lips brushed against his hairline.

"Talking isn't needed to scent."

"Mary and I, we might be married, but our relationship... It's not a marriage. We're friends. I won't lie, I... We might have shared a bed a few times during our marriage, but it wasn't... I don't love her."

He knew it was a strong possibility, but hearing it confirmed by the alpha - his _true mate_ \- made it worse. His heart hurt. He felt small and insufficient. Undesired. Sherlock's stomach roiled sickeningly, his chest ached painfully, and feeling anger wind deep within himself, he shoved the alpha away from himself and angrily rose to his feet.

Glaring down at the man who was supposed to have waited for him and yet married a beta while he was suffering delusions and feeling his world crumble made him want to scream. Cry about how unfair the world was. Why was he the one who had to deal with so much? He'd suffered mentally for two years, felt his body slowly failing the last ten months, had to accept he was dying, and then all at once he needed to accept the care and love of the very alpha that had nearly sent him to an early grave. 

"To hell with you." Sherlock shakily swore and watched as those dark blue eyes looked at him with a plea to accept him. 

"To hell with you. Do you hear me?" 

"Sherlock, please." John rose from the sofa and reached out for the omega.

Sherlock raised his hands out, a silent gesture that spoke of needing space all as he took two steps back.

"You think I want to hear that!"

"I don't mean to hurt you. I just need you to understand that Mary and I - our marriage isn't a relationship. It was only ever a facade for my mother."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed with distrust.

"Divorce her." Sherlock challenged. 

"If you divorce your beta, then, and only then, will I believe you." Sherlock might be asking for too much, but he didn't think he was. It should have been his place as his true mate's spouse. That beta stole what was rightfully his. He had every right to demand what should have been his. If the alpha truly cared for him, he'd divorce for him. Many alphas who'd foolishly married before they met their true mates divorced their spouses in recompense for their injustice to their true mate. It was easy once the alpha met their true mate. They'd felt the instantaneous connection and needed no one else but their true mate. 

Still, there were the few alphas that...

Sherlock witnessed disbelief fill the alpha's gaze. There was fear, powerful fear and guilt in those pleading eyes.

"You won't." Sherlock confirmed his own fears.

Still, there were the few alphas that, even truly loving their omega, could not break their previous commitment to their spouse. 

Some alphas took the responsibility of family so strongly, that because they'd already acknowledged their spouse as kin, they couldn't disown their obligations. Those poor omegas more than the others were forced to then share their alpha with another. Some of those alphas didn't engage in physical intimacy with their spouse, respecting their true mate, but that didn't change the fact that the omegas would live in a home with the first and - God forbid - children from the first before the omega mated with their alpha. 

"It's... It's not that easy." John gritted out, wanting to say more, but being unable to.

Sherlock suddenly recalled that same look in Mycroft's eyes and all at once he knew. Inhaling a sharp breath, his omega recoiled in despair, howling a wounded cry. This was too much. Far more than what he felt he couldn't bare. This was heartbreaking.

_How could he do this to you!_

_He deserves to die for this betrayal._

_Kill him!_

Sherlock jerked his head, attempting to quiet the screaming within his mind, the howling of his omega shaking his mind palace further; more cracks lined the tattered walls of his destroyed palace. 

"You impregnated that beta." Sherlock growled hatefully and watched as the alpha's face crumbled.

" _Sherlock_." The need in the alpha's voice was clear.

"Don't. I won't forgive this. You wanted me? You wanted me, but waited, married another, than _bedded her_ before registering for me. You impregnated that witch with what should have been _my_ pups!" Sherlock was trembling, with rage or hurt, he was unsure.

The alpha took a step towards him, no doubt intent on comforting him, but Sherlock wouldn't allow it and hurriedly stepped away from him.

"I'm infertile because of you! If you had registered two years ago I would have been saved. But instead you married that beta and left my omega to give up and wither away. I could have given you everything! I wanted to give you everything, but you left me alone!" Sherlock screeched emotionally.

Anger had come and consumed and Sherlock wanted to punch the alpha. He wanted to pull out his pretty soft blond hair. Tear at his skin with his claws. But that would mean touching him, and right now, Sherlock couldn't tolerate the idea of touching the tainted alpha.

Grabbing hold of the lamp at the far side of the room, Sherlock hurled it at the alpha and scarcely missed him. 

"Sherlock." John begged, grief written in his eyes.

Sherlock lifted the leather chair and using all his strength raised it over his head before throwing it across the room.

"Stop, Sherlock!" Concern pierced the alpha's words. Sherlock was growing wild and uncontrollable, he might end up hurting himself. Sherlock didn't care. The physical pain would be a welcomed distraction.

"I waited for you!"

"I was wrong." John didn't deny it. He accepted it with remorse.

"Wrong? _WRONG?!_ " Sherlock dropped a hefty science book on the ground and palmed his mouth, muffling the hysterical laughter bubbling out of him.

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock could see the worry in John's gaze and laughed harder.

"I'm being punished. Yes? The world is punishing me, I don't know what for."

_**He** should be punished._

_Kill him!_

"I..." Sherlock honestly didn't know what to say and instead looked around at the mess he'd made. 

"Sherlock."

"I hate you." Sherlock stared directly at John, features void of emotion, but not his voice. "I hate that you're my alpha. I hate that I can't be rid of you until I'm healed, but believe me John Hamish Watson. The second you heal my mind, the very moment my omega is strong enough on its own and doesn't need your love and care, I will leave you."

"Sherlock." John gasped, eyes gleaming in the light of the room.

"Then you and your beta can live happily in that home, which has _never_ been mine, and you can raise your family."

John shook his head as if denying the possibility of a world without Sherlock being in it.

"Oh yes. I'm done. I'm done with everything." Sherlock turned to head to his room, but paused when the alpha called out to him again.

"Your room is up those stairs." Sherlock flicked his hand in the direction of them and continued speaking, "Tomorrow we begin our bonding. I'll bear your touches and care, but don't think it means I forgive you or want you. The faster I'm healed, the faster I can get away from you."

John watched brokenly as the omega staggered away, down a hall, before closing his bedroom door. Collasping back onto the couch, John bowed his head, fisted his hair and leaned over his knees. Trying to catch his breath, to right his shredding heart, and unable to do any of it.

_Fuck!_

John knew he wasn't perfect. He knew he'd made some mistakes. But he'd been trying to do the right thing, and in the end, maybe he shouldn't have tried so hard for his mother. 

"Sherlock." John rasped out the name of his true mate. The person he'd been wanting to meet his whole life. Knowing he'd failed him, and he just kept on failing him. 

_I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry... How do I even make this right?_

  



	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock couldn't accept what he was seeing. His alpha stood before him embracing his beta, nuzzling against her neck, pulling back her honey brown hair and whispering sweet nothings to her. Is this what he was to be expected to endure? In _his_ flat?

_No!_ Sherlock refused to have them here showing off their love, making him feel obscure in comparison. This wasn't fair. It just wasn't!

"Stop!" Sherlock demanded, slamming his fist against the kitchen table and glaring at his treacherous alpha.

John raised his head from the beta's neck and smiled at him.

"Stop what, Sherlock?" John asked as if he hadn't just been committing adultery when he was, because it was _she_ who was the other woman, not him. That beta wasn't meant to be with John. It was Sherlock's place she'd stolen and he had half a mind to launch himself at her and stab her bulging belly, kill her and her pup.

_Do it!_

_Kill her._

_No one would blame you._

_Mycroft would cover it up._

"Come now, Sherlock." John chuckled good-naturedly as if there was no wrong committed against him. Slowly the alpha neared him with open arms and daringly brought Sherlock against him. Embracing him with those same arms that had held that beta. It was disgusting to be touched after the beta. Always second with John's affections. Sherlock would be second to hold John, to bond with him, love him and it was depressing that he couldn't be first in any of John's experiences, when John would be first in all of Sherlock's.

"No, stop it. Don't touch me. You're dirty. You are not my alpha! Dirty. I don't want you!" Sherlock screamed, tears burning a path down his cheeks as John's arms tightened around his body and he leaned in to nuzzle his ear and whispered.

"She might be my wife, but you are the one I love."

"Lies."

"I love you, Sherlock. So much. Come to our bed and I will show you. Mary will watch and see just how much I love you. You can use her if you like. We don't mind sharing."

"Despicable! No. I don't want to. Let me go." Sherlock sobbed harder as the alpha used his strength and began dragging him to the bedroom, the alpha's beta following them.

" _NO!_ " Sherlock wailed, his scream a horrific cry of desperation.

All at once John's arms were tightening around him painfully and he was shouting into his ear with panic.

" _Sherlock! Sherlock, damnit, hear me! SHERLOCK!_ " 

Sherlock's eyes snapped open, not realizing he'd shut them. Panting heavily, Sherlock stared up wildly at the John before him that wasn't the John of before. The John of before wore day clothes. This John of now wore a gray t-shirt and black sweats, hair no longer combed neatly - no, this John of now hair stuck up as if he'd just woken from sleep. John's eyes were just as wide and full of fear, searching Sherlock's with confused wonder. 

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock looked around them, half expecting to find the beta still there, but she was not in sight. A glance out the window was clear evidence that it had all been a hallucination. There was no sun of before, not mid-morning, but late night- some time in twilight.

Sherlock wanted to break free of John's hold, but his body trembled so erratically that he could scarcely stand up on his own two feet. He leaned most of his weight on John's chest.

_Poor Sherlock is losing his mind. Going crazy once more._ A voice laughed and Sherlock broke. 

His face, already damp with tears, became soaked further as more tears came and Sherlock whimpered pitifully. Gripping to John's arms in a desperate attempt to balance himself, Sherlock wept loudly, whining and blubbering in complete derision. 

"I'm not... I'm not crazy." Sherlock denied the voices.

"Sherlock." John spoke softly, one hand moving to palm his face and making the omega look at him again. "I'm here. Talk to me. Only me."

Sherlock sobbed harder, bowing his head, unable to meet those searching eyes and finally felt his legs give out completely. John took Sherlock to the ground slowly and embraced the shivering broken lump in his arms. Cradling the back of Sherlock's head with his hand, John brought him in against his chest.

Sherlock couldn't control his breathing, not enough so to breathe through his mouth, and so he was helpless to take in the scent of his mate. The scent he'd tried so hard not to and as he took in his scent he felt a calmness consume him, relaxing in the alpha's arms and feeling his eyes close drowsily.

Woodsy musk with the hint of mint. So soothing, Sherlock couldn't be blamed for burying his nose against the alpha's hard chest and clinging to his shirt. He'd do the same with any alpha, including Mycroft, so it really didn't mean much to cling to this alpha when alpha pheromones were drowning all his anxiety away.

"I'm not crazy." Sherlock mumbled to himself.

"No. You aren't. You're sick, but I will heal you." John reassured, pressing his nose into his dark hair, stroking his curls with one hand and his back with the other. 

Curled up together within the kitchen, Sherlock realized just how sick he was becoming. He'd need more than just a few scentings a day to fully heal.

"I hate you." Sherlock grumbled when he felt more like himself, but didn't pull away even when a part of him hurt to be held by the alpha.

"I know." John acknowledged sorrowfully. 

"You won't have me sexually." Sherlock growled, infuriated by the hallucination, because it could so easily come true if the alpha dared to order him as an alpha could. 

"We don't have to. I won't push you." John reassured, his caressing comforting. 

"I forbid you from touching that beta ever again." 

John pursed his lips, not liking to be ordered around. The alpha within being stubborn and recoiling from being ordered as if he were submissive, but his love for his omega made those initial reservations pale in the wake of his omega's pains. 

"I won't."

"You will sleep with no one, not ever again." Sherlock was being petulant and vindictive, but could anyone in his position blame him? He didn't think they could. Sherlock had never even looked at anyone else in that way and he'd been hurt so deeply, he wanted John to suffer with him.

"If I ever touch you..." Sherlock's anger from that hallucination was driving him to speak in such a way, but he found as the thought entered his mind he liked the idea of it. He would degrade John in the worst way possible for an alpha to be. He'd humiliate this alpha in recompense for John's infidelities. But just to be certain of how cruel and far he would go, he'd first need to know just how deep John's betrayals ran -

"How many others were there before your wife?" 

The silence... That was answer enough, but Sherlock wanted it confirmed so he remained silent and waited until John finally dared to say what he realized.

"I... I don't know. I... was in the army for so long and they meant nothing. They were just a way to let off steam."

"Round." Sherlock snarled bitterly.

"I- I don't think I can."

_That many then. You really are a whore._ Sherlock thought to himself discontentedly.

"I'm not perfect." 

"No... You aren't." Sherlock sighed heavily. 

Sherlock would hurt John in the only way he could. He'd degrade him as John had degraded him, in different ways, but equaling in value.

"I will never let you claim me as an alpha should claim an omega. You will become my bitch and I will use your body in any way I see fit. If I use your hole and strip you of the right to orgasm, if I use you to achieve pleasure and never give you any in return, it will be my right and you will have to accept it. Until I see that I am healed and then choose to leave you."

John couldn't believe what he was hearing. The things Sherlock was asking of him, no alpha should be asked to endure. If any alpha had experienced such as recompense for their crime of marrying another, those alphas never spoke of it, for it was a deep shame for an alpha. John _had_ wronged Sherlock so immensely that he couldn't even see a way of redeeming himself, so if it meant Sherlock would bond with him and further heal himself through degrading him, John would take this punishment. He deserved worse. 

"I... Okay."

"Good." Sherlock confirmed their agreement. "Now carry me to my room and remain in bed with me as I sleep. After which, you may stop touching me, but stay and sleep on my bed." Sherlock ordered of the alpha. 

John shut his eyes and swallowed thickly, accepting Sherlock's words as law, and curled Sherlock's form into his chest, carrying him bridal style to the bedroom where he did as Sherlock bid him to do. When Sherlock fell into a deep sleep, John pulled away from him and curled in on himself, facing Sherlock's slumbering form and staring at his relaxed features. The omega slept peacefully now, but he had been anything but earlier that night.

Sherlock's screaming had woken him from his sleep and John had found the omega having a conversation with what he believed was himself. A hallucination John had taken great efforts to snap Sherlock out of. He'd destroyed his omega's mind with his long absence and that was something John would never forgive himself for.

He wished he could do everything to please Sherlock, but it seemed that he couldn't even give Sherlock the status of his husband, first and only mate, because of his choices of the past. He could legally divorce Mary, yes, but not now. She was pregnant and she needed their bond to carry their child safely. It wasn't that he would never divorce her. He'd need to help Mary through her pregnancy and after she'd had some time to adjust, they would divorce. It wouldn't be a surprise for the beta. They'd talked about it before and she knew John wouldn't break their bond until after she gave birth. It was the best he could offer her. 

Mary was his friend more than a wife and she accepted his desire to meet his true mate. If she could see the complete mess his true mate was, would she feel as much guilt for what they'd done to Sherlock? She might even rush the breaking of their bond, but John knew all the blame was his and he couldn't risk Mary taking on any of the guilt that was his alone. John was torn between helping Mary with their child and helping his mentally unstable true mate. The stress was overwhelming but he'd somehow have to endure it all. 

Maybe time would heal these wounds he'd created. Maybe it wouldn't. John didn't know. What he did know was that he was regretful and he wished he could do something to right all the wrongs he'd committed.

_God!_ That was all he wished for.

  



	5. Chapter 5

John didn't know what to do to help Sherlock. Well, he did know what to do, but Sherlock wouldn't let him do those things, so all he could do was watch after him and be ready for any request the omega would make. 

They'd been living together for two weeks now and John hadn't slept in the spare room since that night. Sherlock amended his command and now the two shared a bed, but the coldness of that bed was a stab to John's heart. A reminder of what he'd done wrong and all the ways he was failing. Sherlock only allowed John to hold him close and scent him until he fell asleep. After which point John was told he should release him and sleep on the edge of the bed. Sherlock didn't want to touch John longer than he had to. 

John soon realized that Sherlock's eating habits were abysmal and started preparing meals. Sherlock hardly ate more than a few bites of each. After Sherlock readied himself for the day he would seat himself on the leather couch and wait for John to join him - that was the only time Sherlock accepted John's tender stroking hand to his back and in his hair, his nose nuzzling his hairline while the two scented each other. 

John grew used to Mycroft's text messages giving him addresses. He'd soon learned that those addresses were locations Sherlock had snuck off to and John would always find the omega working on a case. Every now and again Sherlock would leave him stranded in a part of the city he wasn't familiar with. Thankfully, Sherlock didn't do it often. John suspected it was because of the consultant's lacking mental health.

Whenever he arrived he'd take notice of the tension in the omega's body, the way his head would jerk as if hearing something (voices), than he'd have this faraway look. But when he took in John's presence, when he moved to stand at the alpha's side and take in subtle inhales of his scent, his body would relax, his eyes would focus on the crime scene, and then he'd move away and around the crime scene. John always made it a point to stay in scenting distance of the omega. 

Anderson and Sally, John disliked, strongly. They were rude and arrogant - the same could be said about Sherlock, but they did so out of spite and jealousy. Sherlock could be rude and arrogant, but only to the people that deserved it. John knew he deserved it just as much as any of Sherlock's foes. He'd done much against his omega. 

So tonight after they finished a case, Sherlock became rude and arrogant, rough and cruel, vindictive, and John would not call his omega on it. Sherlock was insecure and hurt, this drove him for his recompense and John would answer it without refusal.

"I saw you with her. Don't tell me I didn't!" Sherlock screamed from across the living room, rounding the coffee table, prowling the length of the room, stewing in his anger and misgivings of everything in relation to John Watson.

"I was asking her questions in regards to the case. If I hadn't we wouldn't have learned Mr. Johnson had a key card to the hotel and we would not have solved the case." John rationalized.

"She touched your arm, flirted with you, and you flirted back." Sherlock frothed, rabid, canines flashing in the light of the room.

John tensed, the action pure aggression, and if anyone else but his mate had done so to him, it would be in his rights to attack the wolf. One did not flash one's canines if one did not wish to battle. Death for one of the parties usually followed the action. For a mate to do so to their counterpart, an omega to do so to their alpha, was a challenge for power. John had long ago accepted that he held no power within their relationship. He'd relinquished his rights to be any kind of alpha to his mate when he'd broken him. Sherlock did such to show that he was the one in power and it should be John's place to give, submit to Sherlock, an omega. Humiliation to the extreme for an alpha, but that was his intent, to humiliate and shame John.

Grimacing, his alpha roiling within frustrated, needing to dominate, yet realizing he had no right. It caused him conflicting emotions as he lowered his eyes to Sherlock's feet and tilted his head to the side, revealing his neck in absolute surrender. 

"You're a slut."

"I flirted with her to obtain valuable information."

"Oh, and it was so easy for you. How many people have you flirted with? Hmm? How many?!"

"Sherlock, please." John whispered, watching as Sherlock's feet neared him, until the omega stood in front of him.

"On your knees!" Sherlock snapped and John didn't hesitate, falling to his knees before the omega.

Silence followed, the omega slowly circling the alpha, taking in his slanted head, open neck, lowered eyes to the ground, shoulders slumped, seeming broken of the will to fight. A broken alpha.

"How does it feel?" Sherlock hissed.

"What?" John struggled to follow the omega's question.

"To be a bitch, unable to do anything? That's how I felt for so many years, helpless. Can you imagine what feeling like that for years could do to you?"

_Cause you to lose your mind,_ John thought morbidly.

"I'm sorry."

Sherlock laughed, unamused at John's apology. "It's a little too late for that... Strip. Take off everything and then assume this position again." Sherlock ordered.

John hesitated at this request. 

"Do it." 

John daringly raised his eyes to take in Sherlock's features and found the omega was trembling, unsure as to why, his deep sea green eyes stared at him with such fear and John froze where he knelt. Even now, even when the omega was commanding him like an alpha he still feared him, fearing that John would retaliate for the omega's challenge. John decided then that he would not hesitate again. 

Slowly rising, making sure none of his movements came as hostile, he removed his clothing, until he stood completely bare to Sherlock's viewing. Kneeling once more, John bowed his head and stared at the ground.

"Tell me how much of a slut you are." Sherlock harshly commanded, smelling bitter, full of grief and fear. It made John dizzy, and he knew that this bitter scent would bring with it a headache if he was unable to soothe the omega.

_I'm a fool whose hurt you, but I'm not a slut, Sherlock. Maybe I shouldn't have sought out physical relationships with others to fill the loneliness I had without family or a mate in my life, but I never loved any of them._

"I'm a slut."

Sherlock moved to stand behind John and the alpha shut his eyes when fingers threaded through his hair and gripped it painfully. Jerking John's head back so that when the alpha opened his eyes again he stared at an upside down Sherlock with crazed eyes. Sherlock glared down at him. Back arched tightly back, neck straining with the pull, John shuddered, because Sherlock was touching him. Any touch from his omega was welcomed, even if Sherlock's touch was a punishing one.

"How many people were you with?"

"I told you already... I don't-"

"Tell me."

John winced when claws dug into his scalp, but he refused to answer. If he did, it would only hurt his omega. He wasn't sure on the exact number, but he could round as the omega had asked of him before, but he wouldn't. Sherlock could beat him bloody and John would never tell Sherlock.

"More than fifty?" Sherlock estimated, scrutinizing John's face for a tell. 

John schooled his features.

"A hundred?" Sherlock moved around John, until he stood before him, his grip on his hair having not loosened, even a needing fraction.

"More than a hundred?" Sherlock trembled harder, his eyes giving to pain.

"Exactly how many people did you sleep with?!"

John shut his eyes to hide the dampness that burned his eyes.

"I love you."

"No! No you don't. How could a whore like you love? All you love is the feel of a new body in your bed."

"I love you, Sherlock." John whispered sadly.

Sherlock's nails dug even deeper, blood wetting his scalp as he bit back a cry of protest. 

_Do it. Hurt me if it helps with your pain._

"Were they all just betas?"

"Sherlock, please, don't. This won't help you. My past sexual experiences hold no grounds in our relationship. I will never be with anyone else. I swear, I won't betray you."

Sherlock snickered as if John had just said the most amusing of things he'd ever heard, and to Sherlock, maybe he had. Maybe all of John's actions made it hard for the omega to believe the alpha's sincerity.

"A whore like you could never be faithful to me. But let me warn you John. If I ever learn of your infidelity, I will unman you before you dare to cheat on me again."

John inhaled sharply at the threat. Not because he'd ever cheat, but with the way Sherlock's mind was now, he might just misconstrue truth, have a delusion of his supposed infidelity, and might actually attempt to de-man him.

"I would never."

"We'll see. Now answer my question, because I need to know. Was it just betas? Or did you have them all, alphas, betas, and omegas? Are you that much of a whore that you have no preference?"

Omegas didn't tend to sleep around, most hated the idea of being intimate with anyone beside their true mate and were willing to wait for them. However, it wasn't impossible.

"Sherlock, please, don't..."

"Answer me, damn it!" Sherlock yanked at John's hair. The alpha's neck jerked awkwardly and sent pain piercing his neck and scalp.

"All of them. I didn't care. I just wanted to feel a warm body." John answered begrudgingly.

Sherlock stilled in a moment of silence.

"Did you sleep with more than one at a time?" 

John felt sick at the questions that kept coming, knowing none of his answers would soothe the omega's pain. That headache was steadily coming and growing in intensity as the omega reeked of pure grief and sadness.

"Yes. Not often, but I... Yes."

"How did you treat your omegas? Did you cherish them in bed?"

John couldn't stop the tears from falling from his eyes anymore, staring up at those pained eyes of his true omega, seeing his mate was just as pained. Sea green, wet and staring at him with a silent plea that it was all lies.

"I never loved any of them, but I love you."

"That's not what I asked."

"No, I didn't. It was just sex. It meant nothing. They meant nothing to me. I don't think about them, all I want is to start a life with you. Sherlock, please let go of the past. Let me love you."

"I don't understand how it meant nothing. I was always taught to wait for you - the one I'm to be with. Love and sex are the same things and that I should only share my body with the one I would spend the rest of my life with."

John wasn't surprised at this notion, it was one that parents taught their omegas and alphas. Most followed those views, but those who broke away from those beliefs were usually alphas. Some alphas who were older than their omegas would sleep around with betas, who didn't care about waiting since they weren't matched like alphas and omegas. 

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I was in the army for so long and I was lonely. I just wanted to fill that loneliness until I found you."

Sherlock finally released John of his painful hold and stepped back from the alpha. Pacing the floor before John, Sherlock thought over all he'd learned. When all at once Sherlock stopped mid-stride and turned to smile wickedly at John.

"I'm lonely. Maybe I should find someone to fill this loneliness and have you watch. I could find another alpha and let them knot me - I won't be able to bear his children, but that would hurt you. Wouldn't it?"

John grimaced at the idea and shook his head, his eyesight blurring at the very idea of it.

"Don't... Please. I..." John was going to be sick. 

Sherlock laughed heartily.

"I won't do that. I'd be damned if I degrade myself for revenge. No. I rather like the idea of making you my bitch. There are so many better ways I could hurt you without defiling my body. I could fuck you with dildos, and fake knots, record it all and leak the videos to the public."

John paled. 

"Oh, yes, John. I will break you." Sherlock moved quickly to stand before the alpha and lowered himself to kneel in front of John. Raising out his hands, Sherlock cupped John's face with both hands and leaned forward until their faces were inches from one another.

John stared at the wild look in Sherlock's eyes, the smile on his pale lips, and knew that whatever Sherlock had planned for him would be far more worse than he could imagine. 

"For a whore who has slept with so many people, does that mean you can kiss?"

John's brows furrowed, wondering if Sherlock was giving him an invitation. When Sherlock's lips parted slightly, his eyes slowly shut, and he tilted his head down and near, John hesitantly leaned in to press his lips against Sherlock's. The moment their lips touched, Sherlock jerked back. John didn't have a moment to prepare before Sherlock slapped him across the cheek.

Cackling manically, Sherlock cruelly gripped John's stunned jaw and gave it a shake. 

"As if I'd kiss a dirty alpha like you."

John shook his head, unsure how their relationship could possibility strive when Sherlock's mind was a mess.

Sherlock rose from the ground and stared at John mutely for a long while. John did not move from where he kneeled, knowing Sherlock had not given him permission to do so. 

After another few minutes of painful silence, Sherlock finally spoke. 

"Rise and dress yourself, then come to bed." Sherlock spoke before turning and making his way to the bedroom where he waited for John to join him.

John did come, feeling a heaviness in his chest as he finally moved to wrap his arms around Sherlock's waist and pressed his chest to the omega's back.

"No. Turn around." Sherlock grumbled after a brief moment of their embracing. 

John didn't stop to think about it and rolled over onto his other side. Sherlock shuffled up against his back and wrapped his arms around John's waist and buried his nose into John's neck, taking in deep breaths of his scent. 

"Tell me you're my bitch."

"I'm your bitch."

John shut his eyes, feeling unbelievably tired and it really didn't matter what Sherlock had him say, he knew who he was. If Sherlock wanted to be rough with him that was okay too. John felt worse in the war. 

"Again."

"I'm your bitch."

"You are." Sherlock sighed and nuzzled John's jawline with more care than he thought the omega possessed. Maybe it was the real omega revealing itself through the man's tattered mind. A little reminder why he was doing this. Though the changes were not so obvious, this submission on his part was soothing the pains he had caused Sherlock. Given enough time, Sherlock would heal more and more. If it left a few scars on John's person he could take it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sherlock couldn't understand it. He was being reckless, he knew this, but he didn't care. Living with the alpha for a month was cruel and even as his health improved, the voices decreased, he still was unhappy. Feelings of inadequacy plagued him. The knowledge that John's beta was pregnant and able to give John something he could never give was an excruciating truth to bear.

Sherlock was bitter and cruel. He was vile and degraded the alpha daily. He called the alpha despicable things: whore, slut, slag, cheater, feign, and so many other names. He never showed an ounce of kindness, intent on making John suffer with him, and yet...

"Good shot." Sherlock stood before the alpha, surrounded by the hysteria of a crime scene, a crowd of police, curious civilians, and reporters. 

"Yes... Yes, must have been, through that window." 

Sherlock glared at John's act. He wasn't an idiot and John was a horrible liar. 

"Well, _you'd_ know." Sherlock gave, no longer allowing John to hide behind pretense.

John's face hardened, too tense, revealing nothing, and yet by doing so revealed everything. 

"Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?" 

"I know it was you." Sherlock snapped, angry that John was still trying to pretend he wasn't the one who shot the cab driver to save his life. "Why do it? You... Why?"

Something in Sherlock's voice made pity light up in the alpha's eyes and John gave up pretending.

"Because you're my mate."

Sherlock scoffed at John's reasoning and looked away, suddenly unable to meet the alpha's eyes.

"Need to get the powder burns out of your fingers. I don't suppose you'd serve time for this, but let's avoid the court case." Sherlock contemplated, unable to fathom why he cared to protect the alpha after all the wrong he'd committed against him, but if it hadn't been for the alpha, Sherlock would have been dead right now. So it was the least he could do and that was the point, it was the _least_ he could do and Sherlock would only ever do the least for John, never more than it. Ever.

Still, the least he could do did not require him to add a soft, "Are you all right?" 

John's brows raised with surprise. His lips parted yet no words came immediately from them, surprised that Sherlock thought enough of him to ask.

"Yes..." John rasped out, choked up on emotion. He cleared his throat and added, "Yes of course I'm all right."

"Well, you have just killed a man." Sherlock wanted it to be known that he hadn't asked because he cared, that he was merely curious about his state of mind from the ordeal of killing. 

John realized that to most it would seem a heavy burden to carry, with the knowledge that one took a life, but John was a solider. He'd been in the army nearly his whole life and taking a life was something that one did for survival in a time of war. John had taken lives, even when he healed and saved his comrades. It was something he'd accepted. Taking the enemies' lives ensured many more were saved and that rang true even now back home. That cabby driver would have taken lives his he'd lived. The next being that of his mate. So no, John didn't feel burdened in the least for his actions. He felt completely right. 

"Yes, I... That's true, isn't it? But he wasn't a very nice man." John smiled up at Sherlock's calculating gaze, watching as the omega observed him for any sign he wasn't right in anyway. Finding none, the omega spoke in answer of John's words.

"No. No, he wasn't really, was he?" 

"And frankly a bloody awful cabbie." John didn't know why he'd said it. Teasing and joking with one another was not something they did together, but John couldn't stop the thought from entering his mind and as soon as he said it, it was too late to take it back.

Sherlock stared down at John in silence, his eyes the only window to his thoughts, and surprise was written in the beauty of the sea green depths. 

There were many things that Sherlock didn't do anymore. For a long while he'd been suffering mentally and emotionally. Feeling the pain of neglect and the sadness of being alone. He didn't talk that much to others besides when working. When he did talk, it was for necessity or because Mrs. Hudson gave him sad pleading eyes. But one thing he hadn't done in years was laugh. Sure he laughed sarcastically or maniacally, but never from pure enjoyment. 

Even now as a soft rumble of laughter escaped him, it wasn't of pure joy, but it was closer to warmth than he'd felt it a long while. Sherlock liked dark humor, he'd always had a sense for it and John's words brought a lightness to his chest and a tickle to his stomach and it was futile to stifle it back once it was released. 

"That's true. He was a bad cabbie. Should have seen the route he took us to get here." Sherlock interjected, unsure as to why he was standing there talking lightly with the alpha. 

The two of them laughed together, John's laughter less restrained than Sherlock's, but equally sincere. 

"Stop! Stop, we can't giggle, it's a crime scene. Stop it!" John admonished Sherlock, even though he smiled cheek to cheek and was hardly finished tittering on. 

"You're the one who shot him. Don't blame me." 

"Keep your voice down!" John hushed Sherlock as they walked passed Sergeant Donovan. 

"Sorry." Sherlock apologized and that caused his mind to come to a sudden halt. He never apologized for anything he did to the alpha, and he'd done a great many cruel things to him.

_You're changing,_ a voice supplied and he jerked his head in surprise. He'd nearly gone the whole day without hearing a voice.

Sherlock could feel John's eyes on him, but he ignored it. He also ignored that he reached out his hand and took hold of John's own when the voice started up again, but their words began fading as he pressed his side near John's own as they continued to walk.

_You shouldn't seek the alpha out when all he'd ever done is..._

"You were going to take that damned pill, weren't you?" John concluded, even when he knew that that Sherlock sought his presence out to ignore the voices, and a part of him could let that go as his thoughts were on this worrying knowledge.

Sherlock's stride lurched to a stop and he met John's gaze with a blank stare.

"Course I wasn't. Biding my time. Knew you'd turn up." Sherlock lied, because a part of him hadn't cared. Was far more interested in testing his intellect and being reckless enough to throw away his life because of his feelings of inadequacy.

The hard, unforgiving frown John sent his way made something in Sherlock twitch uncomfortably. "No you didn't. It's how you get your kicks, isn't it? You risk your life to prove you're clever."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you're an idiot." John huffed a breath of frustration, one part amazed, another weary. 

It was confusing how John's words made Sherlock feel. He felt a moment of anger pass at John's insult, but it soon faded at the knowledge that John had said it as a form of annoyed affection. Confusing and unsettling in the extreme. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards before relaxing a moment later.

"Dinner?" Sherlock was hungry and today had been so... perplexing. All he wanted now was to eat something and go to sleep, perhaps with his nose pressed against the alpha's scent gland.

"Starving." John beamed up at Sherlock's questioning gaze. 

"End of Baker Street, there's a good Chinese, stays open till two. You can always tell a good Chinese by examining the bottom third of the door handle." Sherlock explained exactly as to how as they continued their path.

  



	6. Chapter 6

Sherlock shouldn't be angry. He really shouldn't. There was no need to be, but still... He was. John was late coming home. He said he would be, but not this late. Sherlock wasn't waiting for him. He merely expected him to come home by 8:40PM. He said he would, but he hadn't. 

Sherlock would be damned if he texted the alpha to ask where he was, but he left his science project on the table and began pacing the floor with agitation. 

_Has she returned from her family?_ Sherlock wondered, crushed. _She has, hasn't she? He's with her again. What... are they doing alone together?_

_You know what they are doing together. You are his **second**. What did you expect? He's probably enjoying her body the way an alpha likes to enjoy sex. You haven't been giving him what he needs for the last two months._

_It might not even be his wife._ Sherlock realized, feeling sick to his stomach.

_He must have picked someone up and they're in a seedy motel right now doing-_

"Shut up!" Sherlock screamed horrified, shielding his ears as if he could drown out the noise within his mind. The first time he'd heard the voices in weeks and they were too cruel. 

Sherlock's cell chimed and the omega hurled himself at it, gripping tightly to it as he read the text message.

_Sherlock,_

_Running late. Got dragged to a dinner for a co-worker's birthday party. Will be home as soon as I can._

_He's lying._ A voice softly hedged.

_He's fucking someone._

A shuddering whimper pierced the silence of the home as the omega collapsed on a nearby chair and palmed his head in his hands."

"He's cheating."

_He's an alpha._

_All they want is to stick their dick in a warm hole._

_He won't ever just be yours. You knew that the moment you realized he's been with so many others._

"He's not mine."

Sherlock's cell phone chimed again. This time it was from an unmarked sender, bearing the address of a unknown location. 

_Mycroft... Location of John?_ That was all Sherlock had to think before he was up out of his chair and rushing for the front door, absentmindedly grabbing at his coat, scarf, and keys before he was out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John Hamish Watson had destroyed Sherlock. His long absence. His promiscuity. It all had destroyed Sherlock's confidence that his alpha would remain faithful to him. He might have been able to forgive John his transgressions in the army if not for the fact that John had waited so long and married someone else. Those betrayals were too great for Sherlock to overlook.

John didn't lie. He wasn't with his beta wife, or some sexual miscreant in a seedy motel. He was in a Mexican restaurant with festive cultural decorations. Loud, upbeat music filled the room along with joyous chatter. 

John was seated with a large group of people, eating and laughing. A woman with a brightly colored pink and silver birthday hat on was in the center of the group, by far the loudest and drunkest of them all. 

John, unlike many of the others, was sober. He was relaxed around the group of co-workers. Seated between a woman and man. He spoke more with the woman. Their body language hinted that they were closer to each other than the rest. 

She must be the Sara John had told him about. The one who hired him and the one he would share break time lunches with. Taking a deep inhale of breath, Sherlock could tell she was a beta. It stung knowing her status. Since he'd learned John's wife was a beta, he might have developed a prejudice against them, but could anyone blame him for it? He didn't believe they would.

Sherlock sat himself on the deck area of the restaurant, shielded by a dividing low wooden wall and ivy plants. His menu book proved another helpful tool for concealing his presence. The annoying waitress assigned to his table kept coming back to take his order and Sherlock finally ordered the restaurant's special, but refused to give her his menu booklet and told her he might add an order later and for her to leave it. She soon brought him his order and he left it untouched and continued spying on the alpha.

After the group had their fill, some of them - birthday woman included - went to the dance floor. Sara and the man on the other side of John stayed with a handful of others at the table talking. When Sara began talking and everyone listened, Sherlock noticed John checking his watch and shifting in his seat.

John was preparing to leave.

He shouldn't... He really knew it was meaningless in the long run, but seeing this settled much of the unease within. 

Sherlock remained hidden, watching as John rose from the table, smiled at those seated, and said his goodbyes to the group. On his way out, John made his way to the birthday woman who danced with several other female co-workers and said something that made her smile brightly. The woman gave him a friendly side hug and then she danced off with the other women. 

Sherlock waited a good five minutes after having seen John exited the restaurant to pay for his meal and leave. He hadn't made it a block away from the Mexican restaurant before his phone rang out and he answered, knowingly.

"Sherlock." John greeted happily.

The genuine happiness and trust that John projected in the utterance of his name made him recall his actions and just how little he trusted the alpha in return. It wasn't guilt, not really, but Sherlock didn't feel good about his actions. He'd essentially stalked his mate.

"Yes." Sherlock answered, his voice strangely rough. Maybe it was the weather that was affecting it. 

_Maybe not._

"I'm on my way home. I'm sorry for being late. It sort of just happened that way."

Sherlock pursed his lips and remained in silent contemplation of everything that had occurred. 

"I left the flat to run an errand." 

"Oh. Okay. Have you eaten yet? I could make you something when I get home and have it ready for you." John offered. 

John's co-workers seemed to flock to him. His personality and good looks made him attractive. Even in their personal lives John remained charismatic. Like nothing Sherlock did to hurt his ego phased him. He was unchanged. Strong and resilient. 

Alpha.

It was both infuriating and admirable. Sherlock frowned deeply.

"No. I'm not hungry."

There came a moment's pause on John's end of the line, before a heavy sigh, and a bright, "The hell you are. I'll make you something anyways. You need substance."

"I really-"

"See you at home." John cut in and hung up. 

Sherlock could hear the smile in John's voice as he'd given his farewell and huffed with annoyance. 

When Sherlock arrived home, there was a sandwich with a side of chips set out on the kitchen table, and John was in the shower, no doubt readying himself for bed.

Knowing that if he didn't at least eat some of the food John set out he'd be required to hear the alpha stress the importance of regular meals, he gave and ate a bit of what was presented for him. 

When Sherlock finished what he believed to be a sufficient amount, he left to dress for bed and was just settled under the comforter when John came out of the bathroom dressed in his PJs. 

John smiled wordlessly at Sherlock as he neared the bed and Sherlock stubbornly shut his eyes, even as his body moved to face John. The alpha slipped into the bed and Sherlock blindly reached out for the man, feeling him tense momentarily from the surprise of being touched, before the alpha relaxed and Sherlock wrapped his arms around his waist. 

John wore a thin gray t-shirt, thin enough that Sherlock could feel the warmth of the toned physique. 

"Did you eat what I left for you?" 

"Yes."

"All of it?" Sherlock didn't have to see John's face to know that he was smiling.

"No, but you know that already."

"I know. I'm just glad you ate something."

Sherlock didn't know what to say, so he remained silent. 

...

"Sherlock?" John called out in the darkness of their bedroom after a long time of silence, but they both knew each was awake.

Sherlock gave a hum of recognition and felt the heels of John's feet press against his shins. 

"I'm off tomorrow and... I was planning on going to watch a film then get something to eat somewhere. If you aren't busy... Do you... Would you like to join me?"

Sherlock's eyes slowly opened and he stared at the dull glow of blond hair lit by the city lights seeping past the bedroom window. He knew how crazy it sounded, but it truly sounded like the alpha was asking him... out on a date. 

Sherlock's brows furrowed with confusion. Unable to comprehend why... how... John would even want to? They were already bonded. There was no need for courtship. How could John ask him after everything? Sherlock wanted to laugh at the very idea of it. He wanted to chastise John for even thinking for a moment he'd actually say yes.

And yet...

Yet, John and Sherlock were bonded. The alpha was helping heal his tattered mind and though there was anger within him that flared every time he remembered John's past actions, there was also the knowledge that the alpha was attempting to make amends. John hadn't lied to him or been unfaithful since committing himself to him. He... he was trying so...

"Sherlock?"

" _Okay?_ " Sherlock sounded unsure and frail, even in his own ears.

A warm hand splayed out and over Sherlock's that lay against John's stomach. Sherlock inhaled a sharp breath and waited, seeing if John did anything else, but he didn't. Merely shuffling and burrowing himself more comfortably in bed, before giving a noise of understanding and leaving it there. 

Sherlock remained tense for several long minutes, in that time he listened to the alpha's breathing even out in slow deep breaths of slumber. Swallowing audibly, Sherlock slipped his hand away from John's and raised it up close to his face. Unable to see much, but even if there was light, it could not illuminate the taint of his hand from the soiled alpha. 

John had slept with so many people and it disgusted him. It hurt him. It made him angry. Yet, staring at his hand he could not see the stain of it. John did not smell dirty and defiled. He smelled of alpha... and of him. 

He didn't understand why these thoughts made his eyes water, but they did.

Sherlock was tired of this. Of being an emotional wreck. Tired of crying because of one alpha. He'd changed. He wasn't the same Sherlock as before. Two years of suffering had altered him. 

Sherlock angrily wiped his eyes dry, and caught the scent of alpha permeating his hand from where the alpha had held it. Drawing it away from his marked face, Sherlock contradicted the turmoil within and wrapped his arm around the alpha's waist, taking hold of one of John's hands and shuffling himself up close to the man's back. Close enough so that he could nuzzle the nape of the alpha's neck and inhale his calming scent. John didn't rouse awake, simply hummed sleepily and slipped further in the fog of slumber. 

Maybe it wasn't about letting go of his anger, ignoring it, of forgiving. Maybe Sherlock's omega had passed the point of anger and vengeance, passed the point of forgiving, and entered desperation and need. Desperation to find his alpha and need for him to heal his body and mind, and it was okay to take what the alpha was willing to offer.

Pride. It was a thing Sherlock had plenty of and at first it was ever present when they'd met. His pride had made him act out and be cruel. But now, Sherlock simply wanted to be filled and taken care of. His mind was tired and now his body was following in kind. He was too tired to remain angry and fighting what was meant to be. John said he loved him and wanted to care for him. He said it would just be him and he wouldn't abandon him for that beta. Maybe it was time for Sherlock to be the omega he always wanted to be. Let John be the alpha for his omega.

"John." Sherlock whispered the alpha's name. There was no spite in the projection of the alpha's name. No, there was far more kindness in it than his tattered heart was sure it could give, but it didn't sound wrong. 

" _John_."

  



	7. Chapter 7

What in the bloody hell was Sherlock even doing right now? He didn't do things like this. Watching movies and going out with others. It was foreign. Something not like himself. Neither the him of before, nor the him of now. This was out of his comfort zone. 

The movie. Sherlock wasn't even sure of what it was they'd watched. He'd spent the time contemplating the strangeness that was himself and staring at John. The alpha was so focused on the movie that he hadn't even realized Sherlock was staring at him repeatedly. 

When the movie was over they'd gone to an Indian restaurant and ordered their respective meals. John spoke of the movie. Telling Sherlock what he enjoyed the most, even though Sherlock hadn't asked it of him. In fact, Sherlock had hardly uttered a word. John did most of the talking, as was expected. 

Sherlock spent the time in which John jabbered on staring at the man in bewilderment. John was as perplexing as the universe. Infinitely.

Sherlock ate little, but John didn't let that disturb him, having grown used to Sherlock's lack of a normal appetite. John enjoyed his food. Even going as far as making soft noises of pleasure when taking bites of his food. Complimenting the abilities of the cook who'd made their meal. 

John spoke on. Going off on tangents that Sherlock worked hard to follow. 

When John had his fill, they left the restaurant and Sherlock expected their day out to be over then. He was wrong. John thought it would be nice to take a stroll in the nearby park. _'Walk their meal off,'_ as he'd said. Sherlock didn't protest to the idea. He actually enjoyed taking walks every once in a while and since he'd been committed into a mental institution for so long, he hadn't really had the opportunity to take a walk out in the open for a long while. 

John didn't talk as much during their walk. Mostly because he was taking in the scenery with a pleased smile upon his face. After they'd made several laps around the park John wordlessly led them to a bench to take a rest. John seated himself to the left and Sherlock moved to seat himself further to the right, past the dividing armrest that separated them. Though he'd agreed to join John on this... whatever it was, he would not seat himself next to the alpha. There were formalities that even he could not conform to.

John frowned and stared up at Sherlock with a look that spoke of his distaste for Sherlock's choice, but he said nothing of it verbally. There really was no need to when his eyes spoke up for him.

Sherlock ignored his glare in the form of looking around them, taking in the deep lush green of the foliage, the pale blue of the sky, and the purity of so many white clouds. 

"Thank you for joining me today." John said after they'd spent many long moments seated enjoying the warmth of the sun.

Sherlock hummed in answer, finding words were beyond his ability right now. 

"I..." John stopped and bowed his head, staring at his folded hands resting on his lap as he worked out the words lodged in his throat.

Sherlock turned to watch him, fascinated at the alpha's inability to vocalize his thoughts. 

"I... don't deserve this, but... I'm happy you came." John raised his head then, met Sherlock's stunned eyes and smiled with such honest care. 

Sherlock glanced away from the intensity of John's gaze and after an awkward moment, all on Sherlock's part, he rose from the bench and looked in the direction they'd come.

"I think it's time we head back home. I'd like to continue one of my experiments."

John stood up from the bench and nodded with understanding. 

"Right." 

They started back the way they came in silence, but this silence wasn't as awkward as it was powerful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sherlock had always loved his job. Always prided himself in his abilities, but he knew he wasn't the same now. His abilities weren't slipping, rather he was unhinged. Unpredictable.

The cases were getting more complicated and there was someone pulling the strings in the background. Moriarty. Sherlock had known this since the cab driver. Someone was watching him... Threatening him.

People were dying and yet, Sherlock couldn't get at the criminal no matter how hard he tried. Having this Moriarty playing with his mind, using his skills to solve cases while suffering the pressure of knowing if he couldn't solve it in time it meant lives would be lost was driving Sherlock mad.

John was worried. Mycroft was worried. Hell, even Lestrade was worried. Sherlock was lashing out. John was trying to help. He scented Sherlock more. His pheromones were constantly filling the rooms they were in. Especially now that Moriarty had begun his sick game, using people's lives as sport. 

Sherlock didn't care what NSY thought of him as they stood at one crime scene and he, without warning, burrowed his face against John's scent gland and began inhaling deep whiffs of his scent. John didn't pull away, even when he'd gasped out in surprise. Instead he continued projecting his pheromones and scent marked Sherlock's with his hands to his arms.

Sherlock was drenched so much in John's scent, he could hardly smell his weaker pheromones beyond the alpha's musky one. But it still wasn't enough and Sherlock knew he was losing it when he'd finally came face to face with Moriarty and John strapped up to a bomb.

Sherlock's mind palace shook. All at once a migraine having stirred to life and the voices. _God!_ The voices were so relentless. Some calmingly supported him as he remained outwardly cool. Others reprimanded him. They wished harm to the alpha. It was so confusing. Sherlock struggled to remain ever present to his conversation with Moriarty, while still waving away the persistent voices that wished harm on John.

Moriarty found great pleasure in Sherlock's turmoils, because though his facade of unflinching composure remained, Moriarty was a genius much like himself and he _knew_.

Not only did Sherlock have to contend with the voices within that could be so cruel, but he had to endure Moriarty's insults as well. Moriarty knew more than most. Much like himself he could read people, situations, and it wasn't like he didn't know that Moriarty had been watching him for some time now. 

He knew it all. All that Mycroft kept from the public, even when Sherlock's and John's popularity was rising. Because Mycroft knew it hurt to know the truth of his status and would be beaten and destroyed if the public ever wound up finding out.

"Poor Sherlock. Second best at everything." Moriarty began. An insult to his inability to ever up Moriarty and again at his secreted status as second to his mate.

Moriarty continued as Sherlock's shoulders turned inwards on himself.

"Sent away to the asylum? Not such a saint are you, Sherlock? Oh, I know, you've been degrading your alpha, haven't you? You're just like me!"

Sherlock shook his head, unable to accept Moriarty's words. He couldn't be like Moriarty. _Never._

"Your dear alpha here is soiled. Why even bother with him? I could take you as my own, if you gave up on your pathetic attempts at being one of _them_. You're not like them, Sherlock. It really would be a shame to end you, but I'm going to have to if you keep getting in my way."

"Shut up!" Sherlock hissed, raising the hand that wasn't aiming a gun at the mad criminal to his head. He gripped to his hair, willing his mind to quite itself.

"Sherlock." John rasped softly, eyes open and full of care.

Moriarty grimaced at the show of emotion from the alpha.

"Don't tell me you care for him? Do you Sherlock? Have you lowered your standards to accept this pathetic alpha?" 

Sherlock couldn't answer, because he wasn't sure. If he wasn't sure, then wasn't that a yes? Didn't that mean he was weak?

Sherlock wasn't sure how they both survived, or who had called Moriarty, but he didn't much care as long as they were freed of his presence. The very moment Moriarty was gone, along with his snipers, Sherlock had collapsed to the ground. Ashamed as the tears swelled his eyes and he curled in on himself, clutching to his head, his gun held awkwardly in one hand. 

John rushed to him, hurriedly removing the gun and embracing his omega. Alpha pheromones filled his nostrils and Sherlock sobbed loudly. 

"I can't! I can't! I can't!" Sherlock wasn't sure what he was saying. 

_He couldn't beat Moriarty? He couldn't work cases like this again? He couldn't be the omega he wanted to be?_

He didn't know anymore.

John held him close, so close Sherlock could hear the frantic pounding of his alpha's heart. It was both soothing and surprising. 

"Shhh." John hushed and peppered kisses to his mess of curls. 

Sherlock moaned unhappily, sniffling loudly, eyesight blurred by tears, but he didn't push John away like a part of him wanted to. No, instead Sherlock released his painful grip on the sides of his head to wrap his arms around John's body and pressed himself even further against John's open chest, inhaling deep breaths of him. 

_I will burn you. I will burn the **heart** out of you._

Sherlock felt a chill run down his spine at the memory of those words. Moriarty knew. He knew everything Sherlock hid from everyone else. 

" _I need you._ " came a whimpered confession. 

At first Sherlock was unaware those words had been projected. Then completely stunned when he realized that it hadn't come from John, but himself. Sherlock never even thought such things within the privacy of his mind, but now, contemplating the meaning of his words, he could find no fault in them. They rang true.

_Oh_ , but how it hurt to admit. How it pained his heart greatly to acknowledge he needed John... wanted John by his side always. 

His confession did not remain unheard, even from how choked up and throaty the projection had been. John tensed for a moment, then a pained whimper came from the alpha as John's lips pressed firmly to his temple and the alpha keened in understanding and love. 

Sherlock burrowed his face tightly against John's chest hoping to muffle the rest of his words that came out. Influenced greatly by his emotional state and that of his vocal omega.

"Need you, so much. _John... John_."

  



	8. Chapter 8

Sherlock was defective. He wasn't right. He was sick in the head. It was the only explanation he could come to as to why he'd changed so drastically. He knew it was time for him to accept John, but not to this extent. But Moriarty had messed with his mind and he needed the comfort John could only provide him. 

Was it really so wrong to needingly hold to John at night? Hold him so tightly he could feel all of himself press against all of John. He nuzzled John's neck softly and with more affection than he'd ever done before, ever thought he could, and John would allow it, completely thrown and stunned by Sherlock's affections. 

Sherlock found himself holding John's hand throughout the day doing anything - sitting eating their meals, in a cab, at a crime scene, or in bed. It didn't matter, whenever the two were together and near, Sherlock sought out contact.

John had even talked him into going on several more dates together, doing all kinds of things - thankfully no films were involved this time. Though usually whatever activity they did ended with them going out to eat somewhere. John still talked the majority of the time, but Sherlock was attempting to listen more than dwell in his thoughts.

Sherlock could see himself acting out foreignly, but he didn't amend his actions. He was most avidly seeking out the alpha. John was his true mate. His only source of reassurance, strength, care and Sherlock was using him as such unashamedly.

John didn't vocalize his awareness of Sherlock seeking him out. Only offered himself in any way he wished of him. That was better because Sherlock couldn't handle addressing this elephant in the room. No. Certainly not. 

It was nice though. Though it caused him quite a lot of internal conflict to admit it to himself. It was really nice. John was warm. His touch tender. His words soothing. His scent consuming. His care welcomed. 

Sherlock would never say he was content or in any form close to happy, but he was... _What?_ What was he? It was hard to determine, but it was... It wasn't unpleasant. 

There was still a painful throbbing that attacked his heart when he remembered how many people John had been with. That John had a wife and a pup on the way, but... But... Sherlock was finding himself able to look at John more times than not and see the person he was being currently. The alpha he was to him. That image was a kinder one than what he'd seen before. 

Content and happy, he wasn't. But he was more at ease. More himself. More open. More needing and feeling.

"John." Sherlock whispered, partly wishing to wake the slumbering alpha, though another part fearfully wished he remained sleeping. 

They lay in bed facing each other, the morning sunlight warming the room as it shone and lit the room in pale blue.

Sherlock was determined not to give into fear and raised his hand up to palm John's warm jaw. Stroking the tanned flesh with the pad of his thumb, he watched the alpha stir awake. 

Sherlock watched as dark blonde lashes fluttered and deep blue eyes blearily worked on focusing. 

"Sherlock." John rasped sleepily, blinking several more times as he fully grew aware of himself and of Sherlock.

"Morning." Sherlock greeted, unsure what to say. He didn't really know why he woke John up. He didn't have anything important to tell him, but he wanted him up and looking at him. He wanted him present and aware. Needed it more than he cared to acknowledge.

John smiled and inhaled deeply, shifting slightly and raising a hand to wipe the weariness from his eyes, forcing Sherlock's hand to slip low and cup lightly to his neck.

"John." Sherlock whispered shyly, wanting John to look at him again.

Wiping at his eyes once more, John rested his hand down on the bed between their bodies and met Sherlock's gaze expectantly.

Sherlock still didn't know what he wanted to say. He wasn't even sure he wanted to say anything. Instead of speaking, Sherlock slipped his hand back up John's neck and back to his jawline and continued his stroking of his skin with his thumb.

John's eyes turned analytical. Attempting to read Sherlock's actions and features, but finding no answer he voiced his question, "Sherlock?"

"Shhh." Sherlock hushed the alpha. He slipped his other hand up and touched John's free cheek and began stroking the skin there too with his other thumb.

John's eyes turned soft and hopeful, of what Sherlock was unsure. He took in the precise shade of John's blue eyes, the upturn of his nose, the roughness of his stubble, his curved and jutting lips. 

Sherlock felt a sudden warmth in the pit of his stomach and a need fill his chest. Strange that his chest would need something. But he needed something so much his heart pulsed painfully and his stomach churned with it in return. 

_Oh_. It hit Sherlock like a ton of bricks. Sherlock wanted John. He wanted him physically. Perhaps a kiss, was what he wanted most, as his eyes kept finding themselves focusing on his lips.

"Sherlock." John shakily spoke, his body tensing. Sherlock could hear when John gripped to the bed sheets, his eyes going weird- strange as he looked at Sherlock in a way he hadn't before. Sherlock wasn't sure what that look meant. His bottom lip disappeared under his teeth as he bit it and looked at Sherlock as if he should know what that meant, and Sherlock seriously wasn't sure what to do.

Sherlock tilted his head slightly in contemplation. _What?_ What was it John wanted of him?

"Sher... Please?" John hummed shakily, releasing his bruised red bottom lip, his breathing fluctuating. 

Swallowing loudly, Sherlock glided one of his hands to John's neck again, and subtly took John's erratic pulse. Noticed the flush growing to fill his face. Then he watched fascinated as John's intense blue turned to thin slivers, his pupils dilating as he leaned just a fraction closer to Sherlock. His face tilted up invitingly.

All too soon Sherlock understood. Elevated heart rate, dilated pupils, it was right there before him. So simple and destructive.

Sherlock should pull away. He shouldn't lean closer. Their lips were a breath away from one another, sharing each other's breath. He could take what was clearly being offered to him, but he wasn't sure he had the courage. He could physically, but not emotionally and certainly not mentally. 

He couldn't. 

John wasn't taking those few inches separating them, because he wasn't going to steal Sherlock's right. It was Sherlock's decision on whether they take that step. He wasn't going to move this relationship any further than Sherlock was ready for. 

"I can't." Sherlock admitted at last, and watched as the openness of John's gaze turned guarded and resigned. 

Pulling away the distance in which John had shortened between them, John nodded his head with acceptance.

"Right... I understand."

"It hurts too much." Sherlock found himself saying and didn't mean to cause the alpha to flinch away at his words.

"Of course. You don't want me after what I did."

_Sleeping with so many people,_ wasn't said aloud, but implied.

Sherlock wanted to deny it, if it would take away the pain suddenly bleeding from the alpha's eyes, but he couldn't because it was true.

Still...

Shutting his eyes and mind of contradicting thoughts, Sherlock blindly leaned forward and pressed his lips firmly against the corner of John's mouth. Pressed there for several long moments, Sherlock felt his own heart give to pounding in his chest, his body vibrating with nerves, before he broke away and leaned back to stare up at the shocked alpha.

John's lips parted in voiceless awe. Words wishing to come out, but nothing came. Stroking John's cheeks with kindness, Sherlock met his eyes with a look that he hoped expressed that he was trying. 

After another moment of staring into those deep stunned eyes, Sherlock released John of his touch and rose from the bed. Turning away, giving the alpha his back as he stepped away from the bed and towards the exit door.

"I'm going to work on my experiment now. I wouldn't mind if you made waffles this morning. I find I'm rather in the mood for them." Sherlock said, before exiting the room and leaving the alpha to his thoughts. 

John couldn't believe it. The amount of care Sherlock laid on him, he didn't... He had never dreamed Sherlock could be so forgiving, but he wouldn't fight it. God, no. John would strive to work on deserving Sherlock's care. Even if it were only this much the omega could offer, he could take a life of friendship and kind touches as this for the rest of his life, if it meant he would always have Sherlock. 

The chiming of his cell phone rang out and broke John from his thoughts. Turning over and reaching out to the nightstand, John retrieved his cell phone. Opening it up and immediately finding the text message waiting for him.

_John,_

_Just arrived back home. I'll make lunch, your favorite, lasagna. Is 12:30PM good?_

_\- Mary._

John's heart jumped a beat, his mouth suddenly felt dry, all as his face felt cool of blood flow. 

Mary was back and Sherlock... _God, Sherlock..._

  



	9. Chapter 9

Sherlock sensed it immediately, something was off about John. In the short time between getting out of bed and now eating breakfast, something had shifted within the alpha. John was the first to break eye contact whenever their gazes met. Sherlock didn't have much of an appetite, but he was trying. He'd had every intention of finishing his plate this morning, but the way John was acting now caused his will to fault and appetite to diminish to naught. 

Clanging his fork against his plate, Sherlock's posture straightened in preparation, and he voiced his dissatisfaction in his demand, "Alright, tell me what's wrong?"

John visibly flinched when he threw his fork to the plate, but the look of apprehension that filled those dark eyes after his command brought with it sense of caution he had never felt in regards to the alpha.

"Tell me." Sherlock's voice was tight, wound up by the many thoughts that ran through his chaotic mind.

"I need to tell you something, Sherlock. I just..." John began, unable to clearly voice his thoughts. 

"What is it?"

"Before I say anything, understand that it doesn't change anything between us. I still feel as I have always felt for you."

_Was it the kiss? Should he have not done it?_

"Mary's back in London and I... I will be going to see her this afternoon."

_She's back._

Sherlock lowered his gaze to the table and his hardly-touched meal, this time being the first to end their eye contact. Mary was back. Of course she would be coming back. She'd given them enough time to bond, and she too would need John's presence for her health and for that of their child. 

"Sherlock?" John called out, eyes searching for an answer.

What was Sherlock supposed to say? He wouldn't give him his support. That was for certain. But he couldn't demand John not see her. If he made John stay with him and neglect her when she was in such a sensitive stage he would be blamed for her miscarriage. They'd already been away from each other for two months - any longer would risk their child's health. Sherlock really didn't mind the idea of her miscarrying that blasted child, but then John's immediate devastation of that child's demise caused Sherlock pause. 

"Please say something?"

"What do you want me to say? She is your _wife_. The first. She has every right I don't!" Sherlock snapped. All at once he felt the anger within build, eyes darkening with distrust.

John winced at the malice of Sherlock's words. 

"Please, Sherlock. Understand. She... She isn't a threat. She isn't the one I'm in love with."

"No. She's just your wife, first, and the one having your child. A child I can never give you." Sherlock vehemently spat. The soreness claiming his heart being the root cause of his words. 

Sherlock heard the helpless whine the alpha released at his stinging words, but he would not take them back. John had left him to suffer and as his body had given out and his health deteriorated, the first of his failings came in the form of his fertility. When the doctors announced he was no longer fertile, his omega was wounded greatly and lost the will to live. What kind of omega was he if he couldn't even bear children for his true alpha? 

Now, bonded, John had stopped the process of his body shutting down, but it didn't change the fact he could never have children of his own. One wish he'd never be granted. 

Mary Morstan stole his chance. John's mother destroyed him. John left him to suffer and gave that beta the one thing he couldn't have. Could never be blessed with.

" _Sherlock_." John whimpered and all at once Sherlock became aware of the alpha's pheromones filling the room and the distinct bitter scent of a distressed omega - himself.

_How humiliating,_ Sherlock thought, ashamed of himself when he palmed his cheeks and he found them wet.

Turning his head to the side and away from the pained alpha, Sherlock blinked his eyes, quickly righting himself. Reigning in the pain within and hurriedly wiping his face dry. When he turned to meet John's gaze once more his face was dry, his features gave no sign of his inner turmoil, yet his scent did not change. There was no fooling the alpha.

"Do what you must. I'm going out." Sherlock rose from his seat, his chair scraping against the floor loudly.

John was up in an instant, rushing after the fleeing omega.

"Sherlock wait!" John called, reaching out and gripping a hold of Sherlock's wrist. 

Sherlock wanted out. That's all he wanted. He wanted away from John and his pleading eyes. He wanted away from his reassuring words that it was him who he cared for. He wanted out, because he knew no matter how nice John's words were, he was still going to see Mary and there was nothing Sherlock could do about that. John would be in the presence of the woman who stole what should have been _his_. A woman who had shared things with John that Sherlock could never have without them being tarnished. So, when John took hold of his wrist, Sherlock saw red, felt revolt consume.

Spinning around, Sherlock registered the sharp sound of a slap before he'd realized he'd struck the alpha. His right palm tingled painfully, heating up rapidly, reddened by the sheer force of his strike. 

John released him and palmed his flushed cheek. Disbelief crossed his face - he'd never thought Sherlock would respond so humanly. Sherlock felt an urge to reach out and palm that smarting mark, choke out words of apology, but he refrained from doing so. 

Mary Morstan reigned supreme within his mind right at this moment and he was so very furious at his circumstances and John's inability to reject his wife. Let that child die and choose him.

_Let the pup die!_

_Find the bitch and murder her!_

Sherlock's body locked in place, bones turning to stone, skin rippling with a chill of fright, as his blood raged for the death of that- that _beta_ that was his enemy in every way. 

Sherlock was being petty, he was being vindictive, he was being an emotional mess of an omega - stuff that soap operas made fun of. Omegas were the joke of most every drama. 

An omega's broken heart tended to leave a mess. He was becoming like Alex Forrest in _Fatal Attraction_. Sherlock would be damned if he let himself become mentally unstable to that point just because John didn't know how to keep his dick to himself.

"What do you want from me? Do you want my permission to see your _wife_? Go, then. Go see your wife. Go see the woman that is giving you everything I can't!" Sherlock said darkly. 

"I won't betray you." 

Sherlock laughed, hard and long.

"Don't you see you already have? You betrayed me two years ago!" 

Sherlock watched as the alpha's face contorted to one of grief and, feeling his face heat, shamed by the show of emotions he was letting out, he spun on his heel and rushed for the door, ignoring John's call. 

The front door slammed so loudly, the walls shook from the force, and John was left at a loss of what to do.

"Fuck." John cursed, angry with himself and still even more at how he kept hurting Sherlock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting across from Mary within their townhouse dinning room, with a plate of lasagna and salad, John stared at Mary, who quietly picked at her food, finding she lacked much of an appetite.

They'd spoken little on the phone, mainly because John worried Sherlock might come home in the middle of a conversation, or that Mary would call when he was around Sherlock. So they'd kept to text messages. Mary messaged him most of the time, giving him updates on her health and their baby. John felt like a horrible father already. 

He was trying to appease Sherlock, but at the same time it was hard to keep his distance from Mary when she needed his presence for their pup. Her beta needed to feel wanted, or else they risked her beta rejecting the pregnancy if it felt its alpha didn't want it. 

"I'm sorry." John apologized, causing Mary to raise her head and sent him a weak smile of acceptance. "I know this isn't easy for you."

"No... No it's not." Mary acknowledged, never one to sugar-coat things. "I... We... knew that this marriage wouldn't last forever. We agreed to divorce after... I... I promise as soon as I give birth we can divorce like you said- I don't wish for your omega to think... I could reassure your omega if-"

" _No_." John cut in quickly, averting his eyes when he'd realized he'd spoken more commandingly than he'd meant to. Swallowing audibly, John attempted to mend his roughness, "I... I don't think that would be the best idea. I've already assured my omega of that."

Mary stared at John silently, calculating his features, her blue eyes were ever sharp.

"He hates me doesn't he?" Mary said with a wry smile. "How could he not."

"He doesn't hate you." They both knew it was a lie.

"He's... not well, that's all. He doesn't trust me. I'm trying." John confessed, because more than a wife, Mary was his friend. His best friend. 

"But you love him."

"Yes..."

"Have you told him?"

"All the time, whether he wants to hear it or not." John's eyes softened with sorrow and Mary's face changed to one of sympathy and love.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be saying this to you." John realized his mistake when the scent of sadness came from the beta before him and he sent out his alpha pheromones to soothe the beta. John couldn't risk stressing her and their child.

"The baby must have caused a lot of problems for the two of you."

"I want this child, Mary. We both do. Don't think that way." John avoided her statement, but it didn't go unnoticed by the beta. 

Sighing heavily, Mary raised a hand to rake through her hair.

"I just wanted things to be like they were before. Not the... Not that part of our marriage, I understand I'm not what you want, but still... We were really good friends. Friends since childhood."

They had been good friends. All their lives spent together. Mary was family whether they were married or not.

Sliding his hand across the table, John reached out and took hold of Mary's other hand resting near her plate and held to it firmly.

"You are my friend Mary. You are my family. No matter what happens, you will always have me by your side." John met Mary's surprised stare and watched as her bright blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Biting her bottom lip, Mary nodded her head in affirmation of John's words and gripped John's hand back.

John released his hold of her hand when she tugged it away to wipe a few tears that managed to fall from her wet eyes. Sniffling softly, Mary smiled at John when her eyes were no longer overly wet and then began to eat her meal. John smiled happily at her, glad to see her appetite had returned. 

After lunch, John and Mary sat within the living room side by side. Although a part of him felt guilty for his actions, he knew Mary and his pup needed his presence, so he embraced Mary's side and allowed the beta to rest her head against his shoulder while she inhaled his scent. 

"You're unusually silent." John observed aloud.

"I was thinking. Are you sure your omega will be okay with this? Us scenting." 

Scenting wasn't strictly reserved for mates. Family and close friends scented each other to affirm their affections, to soothe, and bond. Still, Sherlock wasn't like other omegas. He was controlling and distrustful of John and he knew that they'd have another argument about this, but John wouldn't allow Mary's beta to feel rejected and in turn reject their pup. The baby's health was just as important as John's feelings for Sherlock, which meant there would be confrontation, but John hoped Sherlock would understand. It was platonic scenting, sure it was with his wife, but John loved Sherlock. John wanted to be with Sherlock. He also wanted to help Mary bring up their pup healthily. The next few months were sure to be difficult, but after the baby was born, John hoped divorcing Mary would reassure Sherlock of his devotion. 

"Don't worry. I'll explain things to him." John hushed the worry of his beta. Mary shouldn't be making herself sick with worry.

"Sherlock, isn't it?" 

"Yes." John had told her of his mate, not too much into detail, but enough.

"I've been reading your blogs. You two are becoming rather famous."

John snorted. Mary would soon be reading the papers and then she'd see just how well-known Sherlock's work was becoming.

"What's it like? Working side by side solving crimes? Must be exciting."

"Yes. It really is. Sherlock's brilliant. He's able to read a room like no one you've ever met- _God_ , you wouldn't believe how many police officers he's pissed off because of his arrogant brilliance." John laughed and Mary giggled amused.

"Tell me."

"It could take a while." John warned with a kind smile that Mary raised her head to return.

"I've got the time."

  



	10. Chapter 10

Sherlock stormed out of the flat with no idea where he was going. All he knew was he didn't want to be there right now. He didn't want to hear John's reasons. How the alpha believed he'd just stand there listening to him talk about his wife and accept it was beyond him. 

_No! Of course he wouldn't accept it!_

He would never concede. He'd never be accepting of this. _To hell with that beta and her blasted beast of a pup!_

_You should kill that child before it's born._

"Get out of my head!" Sherlock raged and struck his right temple harshly, hurting himself in the process of hopefully silencing the voice.

_He will leave you the moment that child is born._ An even more devious voice spoke of what Sherlock knew already. _He will fall in love with that beta's spawn and leave you to be a father and husband to her. John's alpha will see Mary is the better choice._

Sherlock lurched to a sudden stop at that voice's proclamation, in the middle of the street. Cars blared their horns, but the omega couldn't hear them over the building voices. 

_Kill her and that pup._

_No, kill John._

_No, that's too kind. Destroy his life._

_Yes, break him. Break him as he's broken you,_ giggled another voice. 

"I... was... trying to be... with him and he's made a fool out of me."

_So destroy him. Make him suffer. He **has** to suffer._

"Get off the road!" an irate driver screamed from out of his vehicle's window.

This, Sherlock heard. Turning his head to the red Ford to his left, he deduced the stranger. Eyes red and dilated, shifting, face pale, lips dry - alcoholic, who would rather have liquor than hydrate himself with water. He was built and tall, his scent strong. He smelled of campfire and moss, beyond his powerful musk. An alpha. The knuckles of the one visible hand gripping the steering wheel was scarred, proving this man's violence. 

Sherlock knew it. This one was dangerous. A physically violent alpha that he should refrain from angering further, but Sherlock didn't heed the warnings of his omega. To hell with his omega. The omega he'd attempted to appease - his omega needed John, begged for the alpha's affections, and he'd nearly given to his instincts. He'd nearly allowed himself to foolishly give way to trust. He'd been so close to letting go of the past and trying to start a new life together. 

Sherlock snarled at the alpha, lips partings to reveal his canines in a demonstration of dominance. Let the alpha come. Let him beat the sense into him. Let him hurt him and cause him a physical pain so great it dulled out the emotional heartache. His omega was a fool to trust a slut alpha like his true mate.

"Fuck off!" Sherlock cursed, raising up a fist and flipping the alpha off. 

The thunderous growl that protruded from the alpha made the omega in him cower, but Sherlock had learned long ago how to silence the omega within and growled right back.

_Hurt me. Make me forget._

The door to the alpha's car swung open. True to Sherlock's analysis, the alpha was tall - taller than Sherlock by two to three inches. 

"Are you insane?" the alpha spat out angrily as he came at the omega.

Sherlock smirked. Alphas were dumb, overbearing brutes, and this one was so easily manipulated

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sherlock didn't lose consciousness, no matter how hard the alpha punched him in the face. The pain was excruciating, but all Sherlock could do was laugh. Laugh in the face of this alpha who, much like his own, was hurting him. But this strange alpha could never hurt him as much as John had.

"You sick little fuck!" the alpha raged, moving to straddle Sherlock's waist. He took hold of his collar, raising him up halfway to meet his punches. 

A crowd was gathering, and there were panicked voices. People shouting for help. 

"You think you can laugh at me, huh? I'll show you!"

The alpha shoved him down to the ground, hard enough to cause his head to crack heavily against the road. Sherlock involuntarily bit his tongue and tasted blood. It coated the teeth he flashed at the alpha, unafraid. He didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. 

The world was gray and dull.

Cases that once brought him immense pleasure left him feeling hollow and now there was John and Moriarity to contend with. So what could this alpha do to him? There was nothing left to be damaged, he was completely and wholly broken already.

"Is that all? I thought alphas were stronger than this. Oh... Maybe you just lack what an alpha naturally has."

The alpha above him paused, eyes widening with shock, then pure rage filled those dark brown eyes. The alpha's fangs protruded as he opened his mouth in preparation of ending him. If there was any sense of reason within the alpha, it was gone now. He was pure animal now. Sherlock knew how to blind a man enough to strip him of his sense and leave only animalistic rage, and that was what he wanted.

_Kill me. Let me die. I don't care anymore. He's already left me for that beta..._ Sherlock thought as he shut his eyes and waited.

The final strike never came. 

Opening his eyes when he felt the weight of the alpha above him lift up, Sherlock stared up at two unknown alphas who were currently struggling to hold back the rabid alpha Sherlock had enraged. 

_Bloody good Samaritans._ Sherlock lay back down on the ground and stared up at the sky. 

Someone moved to kneel at his side and worriedly asked him questions, but he paid them no mind. Instead Sherlock smiled up at the blue of the sky. His body ached so much. The pain brought him near tears, but the longer he immersed himself in his pain the more numb he felt. His head buzzed dizzily, throbbing and glaring, making it almost impossible to think, but that was better. 

Forcing himself to sit upright, Sherlock found the person next to him was an omega, one who daringly offered him a handkerchief to press against a gash to his head on the upper left side of his hairline.

Sherlock raised his own hand to push the offending offering away and glared at the woman. Ignoring her words of protest, he rose from the ground and moved away from the growing crowd. She and a few others urged him to stay and wait for the ambulance that was on the way, but he remained ever determined and left quickly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sherlock stumbled his way back home, receiving odd looks from everyone he passed, but he hardly noticed them as his sight blurred in and out of focus intermittently. When he finally entered his flat, it was to be met by silence. He was alone, as he knew he would be. John wasn't there, he knew he'd be with _her_ , but still... It didn't make knowing it any easier.

Eyes blinking slowly, Sherlock tiredly made his way to the bathroom, discarded his bloody clothes and entered the shower. Letting the heat of the spray wash away the blood, Sherlock felt his tension slip away. He scrubbed his body again and again, the reminder that just that morning he'd laid beside John, held him, and even foolishly kissed him. 

Sherlock felt dirty. Dirty for touching someone who'd been defiled repeatedly. Dirty and stupid. How stupid he'd been. How much of an idiot John Watson had made him. 

Shutting off the shower, Sherlock exited the bathroom and quickly dressed himself in a pair of comfortable gray pyjama slacks and a white t-shirt. He hardly had the energy to tend to his wounds, but he knew he should do that now.

Sherlock made quick work of tending to the small cuts on his face and took more care to bandage the gash on his head. He needed stitches if he didn't want to have a glaring scar, but he didn't want to go to the hospital to do it. It would take time and answering questions he didn't want to answer. It wouldn't matter anyways - his fringe would more than hide it. 

Preoccupied with finishing tending to his wounds, Sherlock didn't hear the front door jingle open, nor the approaching footsteps. When John called out his name however, Sherlock heard it and froze. His mind went blank for one startling moment before churning once more with a swarm of thoughts.

_He's back,_ Sherlock thought to himself dully and glanced at himself in the mirror. There was no way he could hide the damage to his body. Why should he even bother? What did it matter to John? It was his body. 

"Sherlock, are you in there?" John asked from beyond the bathroom door. Sherlock glanced over to to the distorted glass of the door and could see John's figure.

"Sherlock?" John questioned, now with less curiosity and more worry when Sherlock had yet to respond.

Inhaling a deep breath, Sherlock held it in his chest for a long pause. Exhaling it heavily, he moved to open the door and entered the well-lit room. His gaze hardly met John's own before the alpha was on him. Hands shot out to palm his battered face. Dark blue searchingly took in the damage, lips parted in a breathless gasp as John took notice of the bandaged gash on his head, the bandage already turning red.

"Jesus, Sherlock! What happened?"

Sherlock's eyes hardened. He grabbed hold of John and angrily shoved his gentle touches away.

"Nothing happened." Sherlock edged away from the alpha and left the room. 

He'd originally wished to rest, but now he didn't think that was going to happen with the way John was responding.

"What do you mean nothing happened? Who did this to you?" the alpha demanded. Anger thickly laced in his voice, that anger being directed to the one that caused Sherlock's state. 

"Come off it, John. It's nothing. I'll heal."

"It's not nothing." John growled as he followed after Sherlock, one hand rising to gently touch his bruising left jaw. 

"Have you gone to the hospital yet?"

"Yes." 

John looked away from the glaring bruise to determine if Sherlock's words held truth. A moment later a deep frown creased the alpha's mouth.

"We're going to the hospital."

Snarling threateningly at the alpha, Sherlock once more shoved his touch away and rounded the kitchen table to prepare himself a cup of tea. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Making tea. Would you like some?" Sherlock said the last with an antagonizing note to it. 

_To hell with you, John!_

"Tea? _Tea?_ What are you thinking Sherlock? You need to go have tests done. Why are you -?"

Slamming the metal kettle onto the stove, Sherlock turned on John with a hard glare upon his face.

"I don't care! It's my choice. I won't go to the hospital. I won't have you check my wounds. I've tended to them myself. I'm fine. It was nothing. I want my tea and I want it in peace." 

John's jawline noticeably flexed. Frustration was written in every line of his face, and blazed in his eyes.

"Is this about Mary?"

"Yes! Yes, it's about your damn _wife_."

_No, stop. Don't tell him. Too much, revealing too much_. Sherlock mentally cursed himself, but grief and anger proved to be his downfall. 

The tension written on John's face softened to one of pained understanding and Sherlock cursed the alpha then. He didn't want that.

"Don't look at me like that! You don't have the right!" Sherlock screamed enraged. 

"How am I to look at you?" John sounded helpless, nothing he could do pleased Sherlock or appeased him any.

"I don't need your pity!" Sherlock shouted hatefully.

"I don't pity you. I love you!" Why couldn't Sherlock see that? Yes, he knew he'd done wrong. Failed Sherlock in the worst way possible, but he was trying to make things right. John hesitantly took a step closer to the distraught omega and Sherlock snapped, defensively throwing the empty tea kettle at the alpha.

John barely dodged the teapot and glared up at the omega.

"I'm sorry! I know that's not what you want to hear, but I am. I'm so, so very sorry. I never wanted this. I tried to be a good son to my mother and in so doing I failed you horrendously. I don't deserve your forgiveness, I know this, but I want it. I want to be a deserving alpha for you."

Sherlock scoffed.

"I'm trying now. I'm trying to start a life with you. All I'm asking is that you try too."

"To hell with you! Why should I try? _Why?_ Why is it that I have to give you a chance when you abandoned me? You fucked the world while I waited for you. You married while I lost my mind. You gave that _bitch_ a pup while I grieved my infertility. You _ruined_ me. You left me to wither and die and then you came back when I'm on the brink of death, when I've given up all hope, and what? Now I'm just supposed to forgive you? I can't believe I actually - I wanted to try and move on with you, but I can't. We can't have anything together. How can we when you're having a child with your first?"

Sherlock hated John, but he hated himself even more. He hated himself for being weak, for his omega willingly opening itself up for the comfort the alpha gave. He hated himself for ever believing they could have a life together. How could they have a life together when there was that beta and child?

Even if John divorced Mary, he'd still have to see her because of that child. That child was the bond that would forever keep John's bitch in their lives and... In the time Sherlock felt himself sink deeper in his despair, John rushed to his side and hands gently cupped his bruised face, kindly wiping away his tears.

"Don't touch me!" Sherlock screamed, outraged that the alpha would dare try to comfort him when he was the reason he was suffering so deeply. 

"Please." John pleaded, releasing Sherlock's face to instead wrap his arms around him and bring him in close. 

Sherlock stilled, frozen in place, not because he lacked the ability to fight the alpha off, but because he was stopped by the painful amazement that the alpha was still trying. Sherlock wanted to curse him, yell at him, hit him, but he really didn't think that it would change anything. 

"I hate you." Sherlock snarled and shut his eyes tightly, wishing he remained deaf to the way his voice shook and gave way to the hurt that shredded at his heart knowing John had been with his beta earlier. 

" _Sherlock_." John cooed softly, warmly as an alpha would when comforting their omega. Alpha pheromones filled Sherlock's senses, so thick and soothing. He could practically taste it. 

Sherlock wished he felt numb. Numb would be better than how he felt now. Every angry sentiment or curse he'd thrown at the alpha did nothing to deter him. It wasn't fair. How was it John could have everything he wanted? John slept with anyone he wanted, sated his sexual needs. John had a child on the way, fulfilling his alpha's instinctual need to breed and make a family. He had Sherlock, his true mate.

What did Sherlock have? What did Sherlock get out of all this? Nothing but heartache. Nothing but feelings of inadequacies because John's first was fertile unlike himself. Nothing but a mate that wanted him to overlook every transgression the alpha had committed against him. 

"Let me go." Sherlock's voice was dead of sentiment. 

John didn't release him right away. His hands stroked at his back and upper arms, before Sherlock's pulled away slightly, enough so John could look up at him with that ridiculous look. That look that said he needed him. Wanted Sherlock's care as if he deserved it. John deserved to be slapped, but Sherlock held off on that desire, because what he had planned was far worse. 

Over the two months John had been here, Sherlock had felt a many of things. Part of him wanted to let things continue as they had, to live their lives together and try to look to the future instead of the past. Another part of him - a darker, more unhinged part - wanted to hurt John. Humiliate him. Degrade him so deeply, he could never hold his head up high. 

Sherlock wanted the latter now. He wanted to shame the alpha and destroy him. One of the many threats he'd made on the alpha flashed in his mind now, refreshed by his anger and vengeance. He'd become volatile, and he didn't care. 

That bitch would see just how angry he was. Just how far Sherlock would go to hurt John and shame their child. He'd shame the alpha's family and it might dull the pain.

A large, slender hand palmed the alpha's jaw and his eyes met startled blue. 

"I want my pound of flesh, John, and you _will_ give it to me." Sherlock felt the corners of his lips twitch in a faint smile. His sore face pulsed with the pain of the action, but it was worth it to watch John's gaze fill with fear.

  



	11. Chapter 11

John Watson had hurt Sherlock deeply and still, he attempted to move on. He'd let the alpha in, and in so doing, opened himself to having his heart trampled on. Of course John couldn't perceive just how much Sherlock's heart broke. True the alpha's abandonment had broken his heart long ago, but now... now those pieces of his heart that had remained were effectively broken into smaller pieces, and there after pulverized. 

In every way, John Watson had ruined him.

Now it was he who would ruin John in return. It was about time John felt near the brink of a meltdown, felt the hollowness where his heart should be, felt just as powerless and alone as Sherlock.

As it were, Sherlock Holmes was a man that was ever prepared. In the first few weeks after John's arrival, Sherlock's sense of revenge was ever strong. He'd done things, that later, after he'd come to an inner agreement with his omega to try, felt wrong. But he'd done so in anger, after watching his alpha flirt to gain information for a case they'd been working on. Now, however, he was glad he'd done so. Because he'd use it to enact his vengeance. 

"Sherlock." John spoke weakly, intimidated by the sudden and eerie delight that which filled Sherlock.

He was terrified, disquieted by Sherlock's previous statement. Good. That was right. This was right. John deserved to suffer. He deserved to feel pain like he had. John would be humiliated and demeaned as he was. 

Lowering his hand to stroke over the alpha's upper chest, soothingly, giving off a sense of false discomfort, Sherlock leaned in close, until his mouth hovered near the alpha's right ear and spoke calmingly.

"Wait here." Sherlock ordered and left the stunned alpha.

Entering his closet, Sherlock retrieved the black leather duffle bag and paused on his way out of the room. Deciding he should be comfortable, Sherlock removed his coat, and freed the first three buttons of his dress shirt. He then removed his shoes and socks. Wearing only a pair of black slacks and a plain white shirt, Sherlock went back out to the living room and let the heavy bag fall with a resounding thud to the floor. 

John lowered his eyes to the bag guardedly, before those dark entreating blue pierced back at him. As if Sherlock would give into that look. As if John's plea would be answered. _Never_. Sherlock would not relent. Not this time and maybe not ever. Not after he'd been duped by the adulterous alpha.

"Did you two talk about me?" Sherlock sneered, moving to the side of the living room and dragged the heavy leather chair near where the alpha stood.

"Sherlock please." John didn't like what Sherlock was implying. He meant if they'd discussed him in a degrading nature. 

"You did, didn't you." It wasn't a question, it was an observation. John's face gave it away. That beta and his alpha had spoken about him.

"Oh, how you must have laughed. Poor pathetic, _crazy_ omega Sherlock-"

"Sherlock!" John objected to wherever the omega was leading that statement. "It wasn't like that."

Sherlock lifted the chair momentarily, all so he could slam the legs of the chair on the cold wooden floor, and spun to regard John with a challenging glare.

"What was it like then!?"

"We-"

"Shut up! I don't care." Sherlock backtracked in his demands, because he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He already had his ideas about what that conversation had been like and he didn't like it one bit.

"Sherlock, I... I don't want to upset you and it doesn't seem like anything I will say about it won't lead to you being upset, but Mary isn't-"

"I said shut up!" Sherlock screeched incensed, daring John to contradict his command, and watched as the alpha pursed his lips with frustration. John's eyes clearly spoke volumes, pleading, needing, but Sherlock didn't validate him.

"I don't care to hear your despicable excuses. Now then... Remove your clothes." Sherlock's voice was clipped and to the point.

John didn't move immediately. He stared at Sherlock for a long moment searching his eyes for an answer that Sherlock did not give. Sherlock's lips tensed, the edges pursed in a deep frown as he waited. 

The alpha's eyes slowly drew shut, and remained so as he inhaled a deep breath and began removing his articles of clothing in the deadly silent flat. When he stood before the omega in nothing but his skin, the alpha's eyes at last opened as he stared helplessly at him. The alpha had conceded and there was no words that needed to be said to know that what the omega willed... so would the alpha do.

Turning away, Sherlock moved to the nearby desk and retrieved the camera that was set up on one of the shelves of the bookshelf. Sherlock ignored the intense gaze of his mate as he turned the camera on, pleased to see it was fully charged and he wouldn't need to pause his actions any further. Switching the mode to record, he pressed play and allowed the camera to start video-taping. He'd edit it later. 

When Sherlock put great efforts to turn the bookshelf now holding the recording camera at an angle, he heard the sharp gasp as his mate took notice of what it was he was doing.

Sherlock was filled with an infinite amount of satisfaction. John knew. Knowing what Sherlock intended to do and watching as Sherlock took steps to enforce it must be intensifying the dread that was building in the alpha.

Setting the bookshelf at the right angle that in turned placed the leather chair as its center focus, Sherlock left the camera rolling and made his way to John. Retrieving the duffle bag, Sherlock smiled deviously at John as he moved to the chair and seated himself down on it, settling the duffle bag on his lap. 

Sherlock merely stared, taking in the slight rising and falling of the alpha's chest. Watched as his breaths grew quicker and less measured. Pleased at the sight of John eyeing him with trepidation. Every so often his gaze would lower to the omega's lap and the bag that rested there. Full of things John was unsure of, but rightly fearful of.

"Now this is how it's going to work. When I call you over you are going to listen to every request I make. You are not to mention anything about our personal lives, because when I call you over that is when we will play our roles. I will be the master and you will be my slave. To the viewers we will seem like a BDSM couple. You, my slave, will be obedient and not contradict anything I do or say. You will degrade yourself in the eyes of this camera and you will play your role well. You will love it. You will accept all my cruelty with need and the viewers will remain none the wiser. Am I understood?"

Sherlock waited and watched as John's features turned tense with frustration and a helplessness that made something within Sherlock churn sickeningly. Swallowing back the sense of unease, Sherlock pulled through. He would not give in to his inner omega's need to stop, to comfort the alpha that was quickly turning pale.

"You promised me." Sherlock rasped, enraged by the look of defiance in his mate's gaze. The alpha within revolting against the commands. To the idea of what Sherlock wanted to do. Knowing this was not for them, but for the others who would view this. John's shame. It would degrade him so deeply if the world were to see him - an alpha of high status, a former army man, a honorary Captain - submit to an omega.

"Sherlock... Don't make me do this." John was desperate. Sherlock couldn't be this callous. He couldn't possibly have John...

"You do this for me, or I leave this house again. This time, I might not come back. This time, I might die."

John's eyes widened with horror. Sherlock couldn't mean... This wasn't right. Sherlock's mind... This was dangerous. Sherlock needed more help than what he could provide. Something needed to be done or Sherlock's health would further deteriorate. This jealousy stemmed from feeling inadequate, John could see that now. For a time, things were looking up, Sherlock faltered some, but nothing like this. If not for... If not for John's mistakes. If not for the fact Mary was pregnant and they could divorce immediately, Sherlock wouldn't be like this. 

There was only one option in righting Sherlock's mind completely and that... John couldn't do that. Sherlock wouldn't allow it and John grew sick at the idea that if he couldn't find another way to right the omega, to reassure him of his feelings, that in the end he might be forced to do so. But not now. No, John couldn't even think about that. He'd die before he forced himself on the omega all so he could right the tattered mind of his mate. 

Sherlock straightened his posture, relaxed his features, and stared at John with a look he'd seen many lovers give one another. One of affection, playful and light, with a hint of something darker, a hint of hunger. All sentiments, but for hunger was false. Sherlock did hunger for this, far more than anything else, he so needed to see the alpha's pride fall. 

"Come to me." Sherlock drawled in what he imagined was eager and wanting.

John's back was facing the camera's eye, so those who'd view this video couldn't see the pain and sadness in those blue eyes.

Sherlock paused and debated on if he should go light this first time around. Although Sherlock wanted to tie the alpha up and whip him with a leather strap, that seemed a little... too much in the first of what he planned to be many videos of the two together. Disappointedly, Sherlock decided he should wait a little for that. He should take it lightly their first time on camera. Speak more kindly and spank him punish him less aggressively than what he so wished he could do now. 

"Come and kneel before me... pet." Sherlock added the affectionate term as an afterthought.

John lowered his head to the ground, inhaled sharp breaths, brows tensed into a pensive frown.

Sherlock's anger rose the longer it took John to respond, and just when he was ready to curse the alpha, demand he play into his role, the alpha moved. 

With slow, unsteady steps did John take, and broke the distance between them. Sherlock watched with apt attention, partly stunned that the alpha had given in. A part of him had thought John would refuse. That the alpha cared too little to appease Sherlock of his hurts, but it would seem John could be made to debase himself when the possibility of Sherlock's suicide was put into play.

Grinning sinisterly, Sherlock waited for the alpha to kneel before him, and reached for his bag. Retrieving from within a leather and silver trimmed collar. Unclasping the black strap Sherlock clasped it onto John, far more tightly than was right.

Stepping back to observe the collar he'd placed onto John, Sherlock was filled with an unmeasurable sense of pleasure.

"Such a good pet. Love, you are so obedient." Sherlock smiled softly, and leaned forward to palm the alpha's chin, raising his head to meet his gaze. 

John's dark blue eyes were filled with unshed tears.

"Please, please Sherlock, don't..." John whispered so softly, Sherlock could hardly hear him, but he did. It was just perceptible enough for his ears, but not enough so that the camera was in range to pick it up.

_Don't what? Make you my slave? Or kill myself?_

Scanning John's features carefully, Sherlock surmised it was the latter. Eyes twinkling darkly, Sherlock slid his hand up from John's chin to grasp tightly to soft blond hair and jerked his head at a strained angle. 

Raising out his other hand, palm down, and low enough to reach John's peripheral, Sherlock spoke gently, "My hand, kiss it."

John's eyes raised and met Sherlock's icy stare and exhaling a breath of defeat, John did so. Sherlock felt the soft press of his lips, this time the kiss felt softer, more than just an action. More like sentiment. John's bottom lip dragged a brief moment before pressing another kiss. This kiss was followed by dark blue rising up to stare at him with a look that spoke of things Sherlock would rather not think about. 

"Enough." Sherlock bade with far more roughness than he would have liked to show on camera and jerked his hand out of the alpha's grasp to instead wrap it around the alpha's neck. At the sudden action, his inner omega cried out in protest at the threatening demonstration, but Sherlock cared not. An alpha's neck was never to be touched in such a way. Applying pressure to the jugular was not to be done. Kin could touch an alpha's neck, but only the most trusted and closest to the alpha. This was not a touch of affection and they were not close- damn what their inner wolves believed. 

Sherlock knew he hadn't gained the right to touch John's neck and that was why he'd chosen to do it. A wordless threat between the two. On camera it was a demonstration just how much John trusted his omega to touch him, but between the two it was nothing of the sort.

The the alpha, though he spouted words of love, this touch could only send his alpha within to feel a certain degree of apprehension. Wary of what his sick omega could possibly attempt in his altered state of mind. Another form of stress on the alpha. Sherlock wanted that. Loved the idea of stressing his alpha. He only hoped he could be there to watch as the alpha crumbled and broke. 

_God, I want to break you._

Leaning down and pressing his forehead against the alpha's, Sherlock shut his eyes and inhaled a deep breath of the alpha's scent. Sherlock took pleasure in his alpha's scent, but not in the way it would seem. John smelled of pure alpha, but beyond that first hit of his scent was the undeniable acidic fear that overwhelmed him.

"Mm, John. God, you smell delicious." Sherlock teased, positively delighted with himself. 

Pulling away from the alpha, Sherlock held tightly to John's jugular and yanked him towards him. John strangled out a noise of protest, but quickly followed the omega's lead as it would cause him pain not to. His breathing was short and unsteady by the hold Sherlock had on his throat and the deranged Sherlock felt his inner omega curl up on itself, whimpering pathetically as he defied his instincts to nurture his mate and instead wished to inflict pain.

"Be a good soldier and lay on my lap. Daddy thinks you need to be punished before you can have a treat." 

Again, Sherlock enjoyed the upset that filled John's gaze at his usage of that particular word, but the alpha complied. Rising up to position himself laying on his stomach across Sherlock's lap, his rear raised up without request, knowing that it was what Sherlock wanted. 

Sherlock schooled his features in what he determined was a look of utter want and tenderly caressed John's ass. 

"Tell me John, how are you feeling right now knowing we are making a video for others to watch?" 

John tensed and paused too long for Sherlock's liking, and so the omega raised out his hand and slapped it across John's rear. The alpha inhaled an audible breath and Sherlock chuckled with amusement and spanked John across his rear again, harder this time.

"Nervous." John bit out.

Sherlock contemplated his response before giving in.

"Is my soldier shy about the world knowing just how naughty you are?" Sherlock spanked John harder across his rear, his palm stinging glaringly and knew it had to smart as the alpha hitched a pained gasp. 

"Did that hurt, love?" Sherlock pandered to the camera and John knew what that meant. _He ought to play along, otherwise Sherlock might complete his threat_.

"Felt good."

"Do you want more?"

"Yes." John gritted out burying his head in the cushion of the couch in a desperate attempt to keep his face from view of the camera. 

"Ask me for it."

"Please, Sherlock. Punish me." John spoke, voice rough with emotion. 

Sherlock smirked and softly stroked John's rear.

"Say the magic words." 

John paused and turned his head from the cushion to stare at Sherlock's face, struggling to read him and contemplating just what it was Sherlock wanted from him. This was another test. 

"Master, please." John finally rasped and Sherlock shut his eyes, smile genuine.

_Feels good, doesn't it Sherlock? Being called master by this pathetic alpha._

_It's still not enough._ Sherlock acknowledged solemnly. 

_It will never be enough for what he's done to you. Next time we will make him suffer more. Humiliate him to the lowest of degrees._

_Yes. We will destroy him as he'd destroyed my heart. All I wanted was his love and loyalty. He gave me nothing but ineptitude._

Smacking his hand across John's rear, observing the flesh redden, Sherlock felt a satisfaction he could only attain when smoking. Strike after strike across the muscular flesh made it grow deeper in shade. Too soon for his liking, Sherlock stopped his punishment, as it would be drawing the line from BDSM to pure abuse, since that deep redness was turning violet with bruising. Instead, regrettably Sherlock was made to lay a soft touch to the enflamed and throbbing flesh. Soothingly stroking John's tender buttocks. Still, defiantly Sherlock retrieved a narrow paddle from the bag and would give a medium intensity slap across John's ass before re-stroking it with care to ease the flare each smack brought on after.

Throughout his punishment, John had remained relatively still, though the noises he made, hisses and deep groans, Sherlock imagined many would find pleasure in hearing, caused him his own sense of gratification. Those hisses and groans were not of enjoyment or pleading for more. 

John Watson was an alpha. A honored Captain. A doctor who'd saved many lives. Courageous and brave to be in the army for so long, and yet now he lay pliantly over his lap receiving punishment. He could so easily overpower his omega and make him submit, but he'd wronged him so deeply that John couldn't even dare to show an ounce of that powerful alpha to him. Sherlock found great amusement in that. This pathetic alpha that had given to the pleasures of the flesh was now refused to be what should be him- omegas submitted, never alphas. The alphas would shame him for this. The noises he made so keen and pathetic, a bitch would easily make them. 

John's pitiful noises of what sounded like pleasure was far from it. They were of embarrassment and pain and Sherlock loved it. He loved every second of his punishment on the alpha, but sadly he couldn't do it for much longer. They were playing roles for the camera and if anything, a master should give their slave enjoyment after a punishment.

Sherlock ceased his spanking and began to soothingly run his hand over the angry red welts on John's ass. His own palm print marked John's ass in so many places, overlapping each other several dozen times. John's body shook over him - from pain or mortification, Sherlock was unsure, but it didn't matter. 

Sherlock could scent his alpha, he smelled bitter, of fear and pain. The smell of him, left a bad taste in his mouth and Sherlock wanted it. It was right.

John wasn't hard though, which meant Sherlock would have to work at inspiring him.

"Rise up and straddle my lap, soldier."

John did so without protest. His eyes focused on nothing else but Sherlock's own. Staring at him with much thought and silent pleading. Sherlock met his gaze without hesitation and no sense of reprieve. John would not get out of this. Sherlock would not allow him to plead his way out of this punishment. John deserved cruelty. He most certainly did not deserve forgiveness and Sherlock would not give it to him. No matter if those dark expressive blue eyes stared at him with such need. 

The alpha and his inner omega didn't want this, but to hell with his wolf. His wolf was battered down, broken and lost because of this alpha and he didn't deserve forgiveness for that. For what John had done to him with his carelessness. There was no letting that go. 

When John sat straddling his lap, knees butting against Sherlock's hips and squeezed in close by the arm rests of the chair, Sherlock allowed himself to look over the alpha's body as if he appreciated the sight. His hands palmed the man's hips and slowly stroked up and down his sides. 

"You feel nice to the touch, dear pet." Sherlock cooed affectionately, lifting his face to nose the line of the alpha's jaw. 

The sharp intake of breath from the alpha did not go unnoticed by Sherlock. Good. Sherlock needed John to react. He needed to treat the alpha after his punishment - that was what BDSM was after all. Then he could punish John once more with the distribution of this video. 

One of Sherlock's hands moved to stroke at John's muscular thigh, his other went to take a hold of the alpha's soft cock that periodically twitched with interest. There Sherlock took great care in caressing John, working at his cock, praying he would harden quick enough so that he wouldn't have to bother with this process for much longer than it needed to be.

John moaned softly, his head dipping and pressing his nose into Sherlock's hair. Sherlock stilled his caress over the slowly hardening cock to inhale a deep breath of fortitude. 

This was becoming strange. As Sherlock continued stroking John's cock the alpha rumbled against him with pleasure and nudged his nose harder against Sherlock's head of hair. This was not what he had planned for. Of course he knew that in order to have John achieve an erection he would need to lay on some tender touches, but for the alpha to place his own tender touches on him was not what he had planned for. This would not do, but he needed this to be done and over quick. Next time he would need to address this. 

"Soldier... Tell me how much you like this." 

"Mm." The alpha hummed contentedly, the fog of arousal hindering his understanding at the usage of that word John had flinched away from earlier. 

_Make this work in your favor._ A voice offered up and Sherlock took its advice in quick strides.

"Captain, tell me how much you like being dominated."

The alpha held tightly to Sherlock's shoulders, his nuzzling drifting to one side of the omega's temple to inhale his scent with need. 

"Sherlock." John rasped shakily, hips canting softly to follow the omega's strokes, cock fully hard now.

"Tell me you want to be dominated." Sherlock sneered, and dug his nails into John's thigh he still held to.

John moaned and gave a nod.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" Sherlock nearly growled and felt John's grip tighten on his shoulders as he leaned back enough to meet Sherlock's gaze.

"I want you. Dominated or not. I want you."

Sherlock felt his eyes flash with anger at the alpha's words. He wasn't playing his role appropriately. Releasing his hold on the alpha's cock, Sherlock shoved the man harshly off of him. Gripping to the alpha's shoulders, Sherlock shoved him down lower.

"Kiss my feet then. Show me just how much you are willing to be dominated." Sherlock smirked down at the alpha who stilled in surprise, staring at him as if to determine if Sherlock was joking or truly serious. 

Sherlock was dead serious and felt a thrill of excitement as John's eyes lowered to his feet.

"On your hands and knees. Kiss my feet." 

Sherlock waited and watched, part of himself didn't think the alpha would stoop so low. A part of him believed this would be the alpha's breaking point where he would rise from the floor and curse Sherlock for his games and cruelty. If that were to happen, Sherlock wouldn't care all that much, it would just send him into a rage and that rage would lead him out of this house, looking for another fight that might possibly end his life. 

Sherlock inhaled a sharp breath as John bent low and smooth lips met the bridge of his right foot. Kiss after gentle kiss was laid there, until John had kissed every part of that foot and then he was moving to the next one. Laying on just as much affection as he had with the first. 

Sherlock felt his stomach roil with upset at the alpha who'd given in so easily. He looked to enjoy placing care on Sherlock, any part of him that the omega would allow, and if it was his feet, so be it. John would love on Sherlock's feet in the way the alpha so desperately wanted on the rest of his omega. 

_This isn't right!_ Sherlock cursed the alpha before him.

"Stop." Sherlock commanded and John did. Raising up to kneel before Sherlock, John watched him curiously.

Sherlock needed to do more research. This wasn't working in the way he wanted. He wanted John to stare at him with something other than acceptance. 

"Turn around and press your back between my legs." Sherlock ordered, spreading his legs enough so that John could fit between them.

John did as he was told, shuffling back and pressing his back in the gray chair, Sherlock's knees bordering his sides as he kneeled there. 

Sherlock raised out a hand and gripped a firm hold of the soft blond hair in front of him and yanked hard, causing the alpha's neck to jerk back and strain the man's neck so that John stared up at the reclined Sherlock. 

Meeting John's gaze head on, Sherlock leaned forward so that his head was level with John's pulled back one. Even upside down, with Sherlock pulling painfully at the alpha's hair, John looked strong and indestructible. 

_I still have time. I will break you._ Sherlock vowed.

"Touch yourself, soldier. Jerk yourself off like a little bitch desperate for release." Sherlock cooed softly, almost lovingly.

John met Sherlock's eyes, breathing shakily, his right hand lowered to grab a hold of his firm cock and stoked it dry.

"Does it burn love?" 

"Mm." John nodded and Sherlock yanked at John's hair, enjoying the pained cry of protest it brought.

"Answer me with words not sounds." Sherlock admonished playfully. 

"Yes."

"Wouldn't you love to have my slick wet that cock of yours?"

John gave a pained noise of agreement, "Yes."

Sherlock could see John was giving into the pleasure.

"How about next time I have you on your hands and knees on the floor and wet that hole of yours with my slick, would you like that."

"Sherlock." John gasped, apprehension written in his eyes outside of view of the camera, but there was no fear.

Sherlock assumed that the idea wouldn't be all that terrible or unwanted if not for the fact, Sherlock was planning on video-taping it like he was doing now. John wasn't opposed to having Sherlock dominate him so long as it was for their enjoyment and not for the viewing pleasure of others. John had given to Sherlock's dominance once and swore to do as Sherlock wished, so of course he could find enjoyment in it.

"Next time I'm going to fuck you with a dildo and the world will see just how much you're a cock slut." Sherlock spoke fondly and lowered himself a fraction more to nose the alpha's forehead. He could hear John's breathless gasps, feel the tension filling the alpha's body, his eyes widening with a look of impending climax. 

"Come pet. Come all over the floor. Let everyone see just how obedient you are."

John's face pinched in a grimace and after a handful of frantic jerking of his cock, he shot out his release to the floor. Those who didn't know John as Sherlock did would assume it was from his orgasm rippling through his body, but not his omega. No, John grimace with the mention of what this was, a video that would be viewed by the world. 

Sherlock gave a low chuckle, his grip on John's hair lightening to instead stroke kindly at his tender scalp, while his other hand lowered to caress the alpha's chest, watching him heave large breaths as he slowly wrung out the last drops of release from his wilting cock.

"I'm going to fuck you so good for our viewers next time." Sherlock promised, pressing his lips to John's forehead in a kind kiss as the alpha whimpered in weak protest. 

"I know love, you can't wait can you?" Sherlock smiled with enjoyment, John's whimper sounding much like a cry of need than what it was delivered as.

"Shhh, such a good Captain. Took your spanking so well." Sherlock murmured, pressing several more kisses along John's forehead.

After several moments had passed, Sherlock determined this was the perfect place to end their video and harshly shoved the alpha away from himself. John landed on his side, his head jerking up to stare at the omega with a sense of morbid resignation. Sherlock didn't care for that look, nor the strengthening scent of misery that emitted from the alpha. He'd gotten what he wanted. True, in order to publicly shame the alpha he'd had to give of himself some, but in the end, he felt it was a worthy exchange. When this video went public, Sherlock was sure it would go viral. Not because of some personal gratification one could achieve from the viewing of such a video, no. This video was more for the personal pleasure of Sherlock - and possibly, the few miscreants in the world. This video, Sherlock knew, would more than certainly be the topic of discussion for most. The butt of every sick and demeaning joke. The shaming from every proper citizen. 

Sherlock smiled, positively delighted with himself. Harshly running his hand over his pants to remove the splatter of release that had dribbled its way on him as he had taken care to give John completion. He rose from his chair. Quickly retrieving the camera from where it rested. Sherlock spared a glance in John's general direction, not meeting his eyes, but seeing enough of him to take notice of his trembling shoulders as the alpha curled inwards on himself. The scent of the man was so bitter. It neared unbearable.

"I'm done with you, for now. You may shower or whatever it is you like. I have a video to edit." Sherlock turned his back on his mate and headed for his computer.

  



	12. Chapter 12

It had been over a week since the night Sherlock posted their video. It only took a week before word reached them. First, it had been the looks. Occasionally they were spotted and given smiles from people who recognized them from their work. These looks were different - they weren't of the excitement at having gotten a glimpse of _the_ Sherlock and John, consulting detective and his partner. No, these looks were full of surprise, confusion, and disgust. There had also been the few looks John had received that were less condemning and more lewd. 

Either of their experiences were far more bearable than what had started to affect their work with NSY. There had been the snickering behind their backs, the sneers and dirty jokes that followed left a bitter taste in John's mouth. 

Lestrade tried to stop them - sometimes it worked, other times it only spurred them on the second Lestrade turned his back. John told him it was alright, that it didn't bother him, and Lestrade, wanting to believe him, took him for his word. 

Sherlock knew though. Of course Sherlock would notice and it would make the consulting detective smirk knowingly before at last coming to John's defence and viciously deducing those who'd spurned him with their most hidden secrets. Embarrassing them to the point of quickly making their exit away from the mad genius and his continuous list of all the things they wished to remain hidden.

John didn't take it as Sherlock protecting him so much as his way of hurting those who he disliked just as much as John. 

Mycroft had paid them a visit soon after. John had just arrived home from work to find both his mate and Mycroft in the living room. Sherlock's body was tensed, his back muscles noticeably taunt as he'd turned to give Mycroft and now John a good view of it. He lay on the couch, facing it while stubbornly remaining silent. 

Mycroft had risen from his chair, apparently having said all he needed to, and left the brooding Sherlock to his thoughts. John had followed Mycroft out of the house, where an unmarked black car was waiting for him. 

There, Mycroft had turned his cold eyes to regard him with a look of complete dissatisfaction.

"What in the world possessed you to do such a thing?"

John didn't need Mycroft to explain what it was he was referring to.

"I... He threatened me. He'd gotten hurt that day and... if I hadn't done it, I don't know what he would have done to himself."

"You should have called me. I know how to handle his tantrums, one way is never giving in to his absurd demands, which I'd foolishly thought you smart enough not to do."

"I couldn't -"

"Yes, I know. Your guilt is your weakness, which my brother has used more than once and this time he's done so horrendously. I've spoken with him, rather threatened him, so you don't need to worry about him requesting to make another video. As for the one that is being viewed on the web - that one is rather painful to grab a hold on. It will take some time, but it will be erased from the web."

John stared at the man before him completely stunned; he could hardly believe Mycroft had done so much for him. Mycroft and John didn't get along all that much, but the man was trying to help him and though he was cold and ordered him around in a way that John didn't like, this... John hadn't thought this was possible. 

"Well then. I have other things I need to take care of, so I am hoping I can trust you not to do something like this again," Mycroft had said as he'd neared the car and a waiting agent opened the door for him. 

"Thank you," John said before the door could close on the government official and received an apathetic glare from the gentleman the door shut and the agent went to the driver's end.

Sherlock had pouted and grumbled the whole day away. He'd been less cheerful than how he'd left him before going to work. John wasn't sure what Mycroft had threatened to do, but since then Sherlock was far kinder in his approach towards John. He wasn't as he was just before Mary had returned, but it was closer to that Sherlock that John found himself missing and now happily willing to deal with. 

John Watson knew Sherlock's punishment was a great blow, but he also knew he needed to overcome it. Overcome the public shaming that followed, the hushed whispers that followed him, the looks he received, and the rude derogatory terms that were spat out in his presence. His respect as a soldier and his status as an alpha both destroyed. 

After Sherlock had left him on the cold ground, covered in his release, feeling used and abused, John could have given in. He could have broken down there, given up, and fled, but that wasn't him. Most importantly, that was what Sherlock wanted. Sherlock wanted to hurt him and he had, but he wasn't going to fall. He had to be strong for those he loved, mainly Mary and Sherlock.

Mary needed his strength and presence for their child and John would be there for them both.

Sherlock needed him though he refused to acknowledge it. Sherlock's mind was in tatters and whatever happened after John righted Sherlock's mind didn't matter now. What was important was that he stayed at his omega's side and nursed him back to health.

John had given in to Sherlock's demand because he'd been blindsided by it. It was either he submit to Sherlock on camera or Sherlock leave home and possibly lose his life. So John had ignored every instinct to deny Sherlock's demands and submitted for the public viewing of others, but not again. 

John needed to find a way to break through Sherlock's mess of a mind and reach his inner omega. Heal his omega and pray that it was enough. John couldn't do this on his own. Sherlock needed more help than he could provide and so he'd gone to the facility that had housed Sherlock. He spoke with the omega's doctors and what he received was little to no help. They couldn't have done more than what they had already done in regards to his mate's tattered mind. They had mostly cared for his depleting health, but otherwise there was nothing they could really do. The doctors stressed the importance of John's presence - John needed to do all he could to reach Sherlock and calm the broken omega within. It was all vague and nothing John could really derive an answer from. 

But there was one doctor that did give John some hope. Beth Swartz had been Sherlock's behavioralist, and she was the one who attentively listened to John's situation with more thoughtfulness. She thought he should approach Sherlock's omega in a more primal way. To appeal to his wolf side, for when an omega was shifted and in their wolf form their omega was more dominant. 

John could appeal to Sherlock's omega, care for it, love it in the way it needed to be loved and supported. It might just be enough to heal Sherlock's mind. Sex didn't have to be the only option from what Dr. Swartz believed. 

John would try anything if it meant he didn't have to resort to that...

So that was how John found himself sitting in Mycroft Holmes' office, waiting for the gentleman to join him. The government official's secretary had kindly ushered him to take a seat and wait for the older man who would meet him shortly. 

John didn't wait long, less than a handful of minutes, before the door opened and in walked Mycroft Holmes. The older Holmes greeted him politely as any gentleman would, offering to have his secretary bring him something to drink, but John declined. 

Gentlemanly as Mycroft was, the man's lips soon pursed into a soft frown as a glimpse of displeasure filled his eyes. John knew without the man saying a word he had an idea of why John had come to see him today.

"I was wondering when you'd come for a visit. If this is about the video, I've been doing everything I can to -"

"I don't care about that." John cut in, knowing how difficult it could be to remove something from the web once it was there. 

Mycroft's brows drew together in confusion.

"You don't care that there is a video of you -"

"I mean... I do care, but that's not why I came. I can handle that, but not... I... Sherlock needs more help than I thought. I won't allow myself to be cornered like that again."

Mycroft leaned forward against the desk, clasping his hands together, attempting to read John's thoughts.

"What is it exactly that you are wanting?"

"I spoke with Sherlock's doctors and one of them suggested a treatment that they believe might be able to right Sherlock's mind in the same way consummation of the bond could," John hesitantly explained. 

Mycroft tilted his head and raised and impatient brow for John's clarification of just what that was.

"We would need Sherlock to transform into his wolf form so that I can tend to his omega and care for him."

Mycroft's features smoothed out to give nothing away as he deliberated this idea. "You mean to appeal to his animal state in sessions to heal him over a period of time rather than to consummate the union to do so in one act."

John nodded, jaw clenching at the idea of consummation. That wasn't even an option in his mind. He'd sooner kill himself than preform that heinous act.

"He will not agree. Sherlock hasn't transformed well... since two years ago. It is one of the reasons why I believe he is so... aggressive with you," Mycroft contemplated. 

"I can see that. But it is the lesser of two evils if I force his transformation."

"He will hate you for it," Mycroft warned. 

John grimaced at the man's words and knew it was true, but he also knew that he already hated him. After this, Sherlock wouldn't just hate him, he'd loath John. But there was something John was beginning to realize, something he wished wasn't so. There was likely no future for them together. John had done too many wrongs in his life. The final nail in the coffin for their possibility of a partnership was his marriage. Though he'd done so to give his mother her parting wish, he'd signed away any right to be a mate to his true omega. 

"He already hates me. There is no future for us. Now I just wish to right his mind and when he no longer needs me..." John's voice turned raw with emotion. His eyes shut for a brief time to stop them from dampening too quickly, and when he felt his breathing regulate he opened his glistening eyes that no longer threatened to overflow.

"I will force Sherlock's shifts. I will heal his omega. When he is recovered, I will leave him and he will start his life fresh without the reminder of what wrongs I've done to him."

Mycroft tilted his head slightly, deliberating the alpha's words. It was so clear to Mycroft that this alpha truly experienced the true mate's connection with Sherlock and even so... He was prepared to let Sherlock go because of his brother's inability to forgive. 

Mycroft wasn't so sure that it would come to pass. He knew his brother before and after his illness, and he knew that Sherlock would not have responded to John's wrongs the same way if he was the Sherlock he'd been before his mind became sick.

Sherlock would have been undoubtedly angry with John, true, but that anger would have dulled over time. His understanding of why John did what he'd done would have reached past the anger and been accepted for what it had been. Extenuating circumstances and pure idiocy. And as he'd reassured John once before, when Sherlock was righted, he would eventually forgive John. 

"So what is it that you require of me?"

John pursed his lips as he hated asking for this, knowing Sherlock would go into a wild rage when he'd discovered what they planned, but knew this was all he could do to heal Sherlock once and for all.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think? Comments are the food to my creativity.
> 
> :)  
> 


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